Risk It All
by littlelionblaines
Summary: AU BadBoy!Blaine, Reform!Klaine fic. Kurt is forced to attend Dalton Academy Reform School for a little misunderstanding and ends up with bad boy, Blaine Anderson, as a roommate. What happens when Kurt begins to fall for the boy with a dark past?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: So I decided to have a go at the whole AU Reform Dalton thing. It was fun to write! Very different from what I usually write, so I hope you enjoy it! (:**

**Warning: Language, and references to violence and sex. Smut in later chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own glee!**

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><p><strong>Risk It All<strong>

**Chapter 1**

Kurt could practically _feel _their eyes on him, dark and glowering as they followed his every move. It was starting to make him sweat, and he clutched his bag tighter against his shoulder—as if at any moment one of these _people _will just lunge at him and snatch it away from him. He continued to walk in step with the older woman beside him, her heels clicking loudly against the marble hallway. He kept his eyes down anxiously, not wanting to attract too much attention from anyone, just focusing on the rather intricate tiles below his feet.

He could still feel the uneasiness wash over him as the other boys continued to stare at him, a few of them scowling, while others flashed him mischievous smiles—_fresh meat_.

Lost in his own mind, he barely heard the principal's sharp voice saying something to him. Her voice was firm and hard, emitting an air of authority—probably something useful she picked up to deal with a all the things that went on in a hellhole like this place.

"…did you hear me Mr. Hummel?" The middle-aged woman asked, stopping and looking back at Kurt questioningly. She went by the name of, Ms. Harvey—but around Dalton Academy, she was known as _The Warden_.

Kurt's eyes peeled away from a hulking looking boy, who was smiling devilishly at him, a big scar streaking down his face from below his right eye and all the way down to his jaw.

"…Wh—what?" Kurt stuttered, his eyes quickly darting back to face her.

"I said, tomorrow, when you join the rest of the students for classes, you must remember to wear your uniform, alright? There will be consequences if you don't. A week's set will be waiting for you in your dorm, along with the rest of your belongings."

Kurt nodded wordlessly, feeling mildly sick to his stomach at the thought of having to wear the navy blazer every single school day from now on. In all honesty, it wasn't too shabby looking for a school uniform, and perhaps worn in the right way it could be _okay, _but after seeing the way it was thrown on some of the other boys in the hall, the sheer idea repulsed him.

"Now the rules are pretty simple, I'm sure you've read the handbook, am I correct?" Ms. Harvey glanced at him expectantly.

Kurt blushed and shook his head. He'd actually been _dreading _his transfer here. He'd spent the last few days moping around the house, throwing a few unnecessary tantrums, and up until this morning, had refused to even acknowledge the fact that he'd been forced to come here. Reading the handbook was simply…out of the question.

Ms. Harvey smiled sympathetically at him. "Well, seeing as you're new here, you won't have any strikes against you just yet—and I hope you keep it that way. Going out on weekends for a few hours, and even the possibility of maybe going home depends on your behavior. If your behavior is good, then you will be given a few privileges. If you behave badly, privileges will be taken away." She eyed him sternly in warning.

Kurt followed her up a few flights of stairs, leading to the dormitories.

"Things like fighting,—or any sort of violence really—harassing teachers, skipping classes, getting caught in possession of drugs or weapons of any kind…"

Kurt listened to her ramble on, and it suddenly dawned on him what a horrifying place he'd been stuck in. This wasn't just a school...it was a _reform _school. With violent criminals and possible murderers—Kurt's heart began throbbing in his chest. No. No, he was definitely overreacting. There are no _murderers _here. They'd—they'd be in jail right? But still, the idea of drug dealers, assaulters, and gang bangers…_all _under the age of 18…here…in one place…with _him. _Kurt shuddered.

"…I expect highly of you Mr. Hummel, I hope you don't tarnish that." Ms. Harvey finished.

Kurt blinked in confusion, not quite catching much of what she'd said before.

They continued down a small hallway, dorm rooms lining both sides. Kurt was aware he'd be getting a roommate, and he was praying to whatever deity out there that watched out for little gay kids, that he didn't have to room with a brooding homophobic asshole. He'd gotten enough of that at McKinley—and it was the reason he'd gotten himself in here in the first place.

"Well, here it is." Ms. Harvey said, stopping in front of the last dorm at the end of the hallway, knocking lightly on the door.

"Blaine? May we come in? Your new roommate is here!" She called through the door, patiently waiting for a response.

Kurt could feel his hands starting to dampen, his heart race a little faster.

There was a gruff grunt from the other side of the door, and Ms. Harvey smiled at Kurt, pushing the door open, and urged Kurt inside.

Kurt took a hesitant step into the room, rather shocked by the size and the decent furnishings the place had. The room was split evenly in half, a bed on opposite corners of the room. Each side had its own desk and chair, and disappointingly for Kurt, a tiny wardrobe and matching dresser for clothing. There was a seating area in the center, to be shared by the two sides, and it looked comfortable enough. The room was nice, and not suffocating like Kurt had expected for a reform school.

"Hello, Blaine. Having a good afternoon?" Ms. Harvey asked politely, but she didn't smile as she'd done with Kurt.

Kurt stared at the boy lying lazily on his bed, resting against the backboard, his eyes narrowed at the intruders, slowly lowering the book he held in his hands. He didn't speak, but his hard eyes sent chills down Kurt's spine. He had dark hair, gelled back with what Kurt assumed was an _entire _bottle of product. He had sharp—but strangely handsome features. It was his eyes that caught Kurt's attention though. They were a bright color of hazel, but they carried an air of darkness as he glowered at them. His blazer was tossed over his desk chair, his white button up shirt was un-tucked, and his navy and red tie was hanging loosely off his neck.

Ms. Harvey didn't seem to be disturbed by Blaine's lack of response, or the intense way he was staring at her.

"Meet your new roommate," Ms. Harvey said, ushering Kurt forward from where he still stood, lingering in the doorway. "Blaine, this is Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is Blaine Anderson. I hope you boys get along well."

The boy at the bed shifted his glare to Kurt, his eyes slowly raking down Kurt's body. Kurt felt oddly uncomfortable about it, feeling too_ exposed_ for his liking. The boy shot Kurt a look of nonchalance, and turned back to his book.

"Now Blaine, I know he isn't much like Liam, but I think you two could—" Ms. Harvey started.

"—don't you say his name. Don't you _dare._" Blaine growled, resting his book on his lap, staring threateningly at the woman.

Kurt's heart skipped a beat.

Ms. Harvey didn't bat an eye, instead narrowed her eyes sympathetically, and turned back to Kurt. "Well, I hope you get settled in nicely. I'm sure Blaine can help you figure out your classes, or answer any questions you may have."

Kurt swallowed nervously, averting his eyes from the other boy. He nodded meekly at the principal, and forced a smile and a wave as she turned toward the door and disappeared back out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

The dark haired boy glanced back at him, once again looking him up and down, before picking up his book, and returned his focus within its pages.

Kurt let out a breath he hadn't know he was holding in, feeling mildly relieved the boy had stopped glaring at him, and made his way hesitantly into the room. Even though the other boy was no longer looking at him, Kurt could still see the piercing image of dark hazel, hard and dangerous. Kurt made a mental note to be sure to stay clear. It appeared, for the most part, like the other haired boy liked to keep to himself. As he unpacked, Kurt silently thanked the gay gods watching over him, happy that at least his roommate wasn't currently pounding his head into the wall.

* * *

><p>Blaine peered over his book at the new kid The Warden brought in as his new room mate. He grit his teeth together bitterly. Not even a week after Liam's gone and they've already replaced him. <em>Bastards<em>.

The new kid was definitely different from the rest of the boys at Dalton, Blaine could tell that the moment he walked in. He came strutting in with a pair of jeans so tight Blaine wondered if he'd even be able to get them off. His shirt was adorned with an obscene amount of zippers that served absolutely no purpose except to _be _there.

Blaine honestly never understood fashion.

He watched the kid unpack, smirking to himself as he saw that the new kid had only managed to stuff about a fraction of his clothes into the wardrobe and dresser, and was now standing in confusion as he tried to figure out where to put the rest of his clothes.

Why the hell did he bring so much crap anyways, Blaine wondered. It's not like he'd be able to wear any of it anyways. This was _Dalton Academy_. Not a fucking fashion show.

Blaine rolled his eyes and turned to focus on the book in his lap, once again losing himself in the text, and forgetting about the prettyboy who was still carefully unpacking his belongings, arranging and rearranging the clothes in a vain attempt to get them all to fit.

When he finally finished his book, it was nearly 4 in the evening, and it'd gotten rather dark in the room. The other kid—Kurt, was it? Had finished unpacking—well as best he could, anyways—leaving only the clothes that wouldn't fit in his wardrobe in his suitcase, and left it sitting in a corner beside his bed. Blaine rolled his eyes at the newbie, who was sitting stiffly at his desk, deeply concentrated on reading his copy of the Dalton Academy handbook.

This kid really _was _different.

Blaine shut his book with a loud thump, and tossed it on his desk—causing the other boy to flinch from where he sat at the opposite side of the room, flustered by the the sudden noise.

_Jumpy too_, Blaine thought to himself with a laugh. This was going to be fun.

Blaine swung his legs over the bed, and was now sitting upright. The new kid must have felt Blaine's eyes on him because he cowered slightly, clutching the handbook tightly in his hands, trying too hard to focus his attention anyways but at the other boy in the room.

"What are you studying that piece of shit so hard for? You just got here…" Blaine said, his voice echoing through the silent dorm.

Kurt's eyes squeeze shut, as if contemplating whether or not to respond.

After a few moments had passed, Kurt slowly turned to face Blaine, his expression unreadable—but it seemed to wear an air of irritation. "I'm just trying to figure out what the shower and meal situation is here, alright? Ms. Harvey wasn't really..._clear _about it."

Blaine raised his eyebrows—a bit taken aback by the slight hint of attitude in the kid's retort. There was that unmistakable growl of irritation that caught Blaine's attention. Maybe he _wasn't _much different than the other boys in here, Blaine thought—just dressed a little differently.

"There's a communal shower for every floor of the dormitories—" He saw Kurt flinch again at the sound of his voice, and Blaine smiled mischievously, "but don't worry—you'll be _fine…_as long as you don't drop the soap." Blaine chuckled to himself when he saw Kurt's face flush—just a _little_ too red.

Kurt glowered down at his desk, refusing to look at the other boy.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Relax new kid. This isn't a fucking prison. Showers are the least of your concerns."

Kurt turned around in his chair, facing Blaine with a hard stare.

"And as far as meals go, they serve breakfast at 7, tastes like shit. Lunch is at 12:30, tastes like even worse shit. And dinner is at 6, and that tastes—well dinner is pretty good here, actually."

Kurt nodded curtly, not knowing exactly why the other boy was being sort of..._nice_? No, that wasn't the word…_decent_? Not quite. Maybe, _standable_? Yes, standable. That was it, Kurt decided.

"So…what are you in for?" Blaine asked, cocking up an eyebrow and shooting Kurt a mischievous smile. "Rob a department store? Bloomingdale's? Barney's? Or am I way off target and it was like a fucking Macy's? I can never tell when it comes to clothes."

Kurt grimaced, narrowing his eyes at the boy who was grinning at him, smirking almost. "What I did is _none _of your business, so just leave me alone, alright?"

Blaine pretended to be scared and then burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, I just can't imagine…_you…_" Blaine gestured to Kurt, waving his hands around in the air, "_You! _Doing some big crime to get your ass sent in here!"

Kurt was annoyed. _Very _annoyed. "Well…you're right. I shouldn't even _be _here. It wasn't my fault and it was a stupid misunderstanding."

Blaine burst into laughter once again, "Right, right. It was _all_ the clerk's fault for making you _pay _for the clothes."

Kurt muttered something under his breath, and ignored him. He glanced over at the clock to see that it was almost 5.

He supposed he should go take a quick shower and then make his way down for dinner. He picked out a light Dalton Academy tee-shirt, a pair of slacks, and a few of his shower things. From the corner of his eye, he could see Blaine watching him with an amused smile as he gathered up his towel, hair products, face cleansers, body wash, hairdryer and other necessities, feeling slightly irritated by Blaine's silent judgments.

"Talk about high maintenance…" Blaine grumbled, getting to his feet and shuffling to his desk to search for something.

Kurt ignored the comment and made his way out the door. He may be a reform student now, but he certainly wasn't going to look like, _or _smell like one. From what he gathered from simply walking down the halls, not too many of these people seemed to understand what _personal hygiene _was.

As he closed the door behind him, he secretly hoped Blaine wasn't lying about the bathrooms being decent—and more importantly, _safe._

* * *

><p>Kurt returned back to his dorm feeling refreshed and a bit less tense than he did when he first arrived. He wasn't quite sure if he'd really ever be able to settle in here—but the showers here were nice and <em>private,<em> and quite empty for the most part—which helped calm Kurt when he thought about having to be to stay here for the next couple of months.

When he'd first been told he was being forced to either go to a reform school, or have to face assault charges, he'd grimly opted for the school. But surprisingly, the school was rather nice, and unusually so given the fact it was swarming with underaged criminals. Though it looked somewhat like a prison from the outside, the inside featured a rather classic appearance, with its high ceilings and marble floors. The dorms were a generous size, and comfortable enough. And despite his initial thoughts, the place was _clean. _Kurt wondered how they ever managed that, with a place full of misfits and wrong-doers like the ones that he'd seen lingering around.

He was even a bit unsure when it came to his own roommate, Blaine. He'd seemed incredibly frightening when he'd first seen him this afternoon, but now he was actually sort of…_teasing _him?

Kurt shook his head. It didn't matter. He wasn't here to make friends. He was here to complete his year, and hopefully return to McKinley,—where his _real _friends were—next fall.

When Kurt turned the door into his dorm, he found Blaine on his bed once again, a different book in hand, presumably already finished with the first one he'd been reading this afternoon.

Blaine didn't look up at him when he walked in, so Kurt didn't pay him any attention either. He settled his stuff atop his dresser, and went back to find his handbook, and hopefully look over the map and figure out where the dining hall was. Kurt could feel his stomach rumble audibly, and hoped that since Blaine was right about the showers, he'd also be right about the somewhat decent dinners here.

"You going to dinner?" Kurt asked, a little hopeful to have at the least one person he _sorta _knew to accompany him to eat.

Blaine didn't look up from his book, his eyes gliding across the page with ease. "I don't get dinner anymore," he replied simply.

Kurt frowned. The school was allowed to deny students actual _meals_? That couldn't be right, could it?

"You don't get dinner?" Kurt repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Blaine shrugged and turned the page. "I pretty much got all my privileges taken away the first week I got to this shithole—and I still haven't "behaved" well enough to get them back, or whatever. The warden has to get…a little _creative _now when it comes to my punishments."

Kurt didn't even want to think about what kind of things _Blaine _had done to get himself here. And from the way he acted and spoke, he seemed to have been at the Academy for a long while.

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><p>Kurt felt quite uncomfortable as he sat alone in the large dining hall, poking at his pasta, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone sitting at the tables around him. He chewed his food slowly, moving the tube-shaped noodles around on his plate in boredom. At least Blaine had been right about the food. It was alright as far as school food went, but it wasn't spectacular. It sure beat McKinley's old menu though—which was surprising, and mildly disturbing. Maybe the rumors that McKinley got it's food from prisons was actually true.<p>

What wasn't particularly surprising, but not at all thrilling either, were the uneasy stares he was receiving from the other boys. Despite Kurt's attempts at avoiding any type of contact, he would still catch a pair of eyes looking menacingly in his direction every so often, sending nervous chills down his spine. Though he wasn't the only one who was sitting alone—there were actually quite a few loners sitting by themselves—they seemed used to it, and most people let them be.

Kurt on the other hand, was _new. _That, and for some reason, he just _attracted _attention. It wasn't like he was wearing an attention grabbing outfit like he had when he'd first gotten here earlier this afternoon, which Kurt was now realizing was a big mistake on his part. A bright red shirt with zippers and tight black skinny jeans really weren't such a good idea. If they got him thrown in dumpsters at McKinley, he should have figured they'd get him _a lot _worse here.

Kurt was aware that his food was getting cold, but suddenly he just wasn't feeling too hungry anymore. Kurt swallowed down as much food as he could keep down, and decided to return back to his dorm, and away from the chaos of the dining hall. He sighed and picked up his tray and made his way through the crowd. He felt mildly threatened by the purposeful shoves a few boys gave him as they passed by, but the doors and walls were lined with guards, which Kurt was beyond grateful for, and fortunately no one gave him too much trouble.

He carefully pushed past a couple of boys lingering near the front of the room and slipped through the double doors of the main entrance, heading up toward the dormitories. He was sort of hoping Blaine would keep to himself again—he really wasn't in the mood for another interrogation, or any irritating teasing. It'd been a long day and he needed to unwind and mentally prepare for tomorrow.

Fortunately though, when Kurt unlocked the door and pushed it open, he found Blaine still leaning against the backboard of his bed, staring at a crumpled up note in his hand, the book he'd been reading abandoned on the desk.

Kurt walked in quietly and decided he'd better start on his nightly facial routine. Just because he was stuck in this place didn't mean he could get lazy.

He walked past Blaine, whose eyes hadn't peeled away from the paper in his hand once, his eyes narrowed as he stared at it.

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><p>Blaine had noticed his new roommate returned, silently slipping back into the room and making a bee-line to his side of the dorm. Blaine could tell just from the huffy way he was breathing it probably hadn't been the greatest of experiences. This Kurt fellow really was an amusing one, Blaine thought to himself. It was like he carried a sort of diva-ish act that Blaine found entertaining, but at the same time he was still sorta jumpy and nervous too. Blaine could tell he was going to have fun with this one.<p>

He shook the thought out of his head and focused his attention back to the old piece of paper that was slipped under the door just a few moments after Kurt left for dinner, his buddy Wes' familiar handwriting scrawled across it.

_I got your message. David's informed J and the others. J thinks he could probably sneak you what you need in a couple days. I'll keep you posted. Be careful though. You're the only one who's on probation so far, and we can't have you missing for the showdown._

_We're gonna get the bastard. I promise._

Blaine willed the anger to go away, clenching his hands around the paper until his knuckles turned white. After a few moments and a few calming words muttered under his breath, Blaine unclenched his fingers and ripped the note into tiny little pieces and tossed them into his waste basket.

Blaine heard Kurt's deflated sigh from across the room and he shook his head at how unbelievably naïve the boy was to go down there on his _first _day and expect not to get picked on. Blaine assumed he'd been lucky and there were actual guards there tonight. Due to government budgets and shit, the guards weren't _actually _there at all meals—which often led to havoc, in Blaine's opinion. He couldn't understand why whoever was in charge would be stupid enough to waste the cash on keeping the place so fucking classy and dapper when they _should _be wasting their money making sure all the assholes in the joint didn't kill each other first.

Blaine glanced over to see Kurt's hair up in a cloth headband, rubbing some sort of cream onto his face as he looked into a threefold mirror propped up on his desk.

_You have got to be shitting me._

Blaine didn't know whether or laugh at him, or admire him. The guy was at a place like _this, _and he was still worrying about his _complexion_, of all things. Perhaps Kurt hadn't caught the gist of how frightening this place could really be.

Blaine chuckled to himself. The kid was in for a hell of a new experience tomorrow.

Blaine got up and stretched. It was getting late and he was just about ready for bed. He rolled his eyes as he caught another glimpse of Kurt spraying what appeared to be the 5th bottle of crap he had arranged on his dresser, onto his face.

He yawned loudly, and grinned a little as he caught the new kid's attention. He was staring at him wordlessly, his eyes slightly narrowed in annoyance.

Blaine ran his hands through his hair lazily and walked to get a change of clothes from his wardrobe.

Unconsciously forgetting about Kurt's presence for a moment, Blaine pulled off his tie, and began unbuttoning his white dress shirt. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and tossed it onto his bed and turned to search for the old tee-shirt he'd picked out when he heard Kurt's breath slightly hitch from across the room.

What was it this time? Blaine rolled his eyes and turned around to see Kurt staring at him with wide eyes, his cheeks flushed with color, and his mouth hanging open slightly.

Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"You—you're changing in front of me…" Kurt stuttered, looking away suddenly.

"…And?" Blaine replied, sounding a little irritated.

Kurt shook his head, and turned away. "It's—it's nothing. Sorry." He mumbled, and fumbled awkwardly with a bottle of lotion on his desk.

_Oh._

A smirk spread across Blaine's face. If the clothes and facial thing didn't give it away, Blaine was almost positive _this _did.

So Kurt liked boys.

Blaine smiled. This made things even _more _interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings: Language and references to violence and sex. Smut in later chapters**

**Disclaimer: I do not own glee (:**

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><p><strong>Risk It All<strong>

**Chapter 2**

Kurt is shaken from his dreams by an abrupt buzzing noise, loud and blunt—resembling that of a siren.

He groaned and painstakingly rolled over in his bed, blinking as he leaned over to his bedside table to turn off the alarm. He made a quick mental note to himself to get a new alarm clock. The ones provided in the dorms were probably going to end up giving him side-splitting headaches for the rest of the year. This school was torture enough, no need to add morning migraines to the list.

_Morning._

Kurt winced as he took in his surroundings, the reality of it all starting to settle in. Today was his first official day here at the Dalton Academy Reform School, and to put it lightly…Kurt was far from thrilled.

He sat up in his bed, yawning as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit dormitory, the clock reading 6:30.

Kurt was aware that breakfast was served at 7 and classes officially began at 7:45, but after his uncomfortable experience in the cafeteria the night before, Kurt was hesitant to repeat the ordeal for what Blaine implied was _shitty _at best. He decided to skip breakfast this morning, and instead opt to figure out where his classes were. He didn't want to get lost and end up wandering the halls alone on his first day.

Kurt pulled himself up out of bed and looked over across the room, almost forgetting the fact that he indeed had a roommate. But oddly enough, Blaine wasn't there, and Kurt let out a sigh of relief. After his more than awkward _exchange_ with Blaine last night, Kurt was sort of glad he wouldn't have to face him this early in the morning—_and_ he could get changed in here, with privacy, without worrying about having to go to the bathrooms where he'd risk getting looked at by thugs or whatever other scary looking people lived on this floor, while he changed.

Kurt opened up his small wardrobe, and grimaced slightly at the sight of the five sets of navy blue blazers, white cotton button up shirts, red and blue striped ties, and beige slacks. He sighed and murmured something along the lines of _at least they aren't orange jump suits_, and grabbed a set off its hanger.

He laid the uniform out on his bed, and went to the top of his dresser to collect his small bathroom bag of assortments, carrying his necessities like toothpaste and facial washes and other hygiene products, and headed down the end of the hall to the bathroom.

Since Kurt had opted to skip breakfast, by the time he'd gotten to the bathrooms, they'd pretty much emptied out, except for the one or two guys still drying up after an early morning shower. Fortunately, the bathrooms were still a place of privacy and no one paid Kurt much attention.

Kurt cleaned himself up, and combed his hair, staring idly at his reflection in the somewhat misty mirror.

Today was the beginning of a whole new world for him.

After a much shorter prep time than his usual routine, Kurt returned to the dorm, and with a sigh, began to change into the Dalton Academy uniform.

His fingers slowly buttoned each button up to his neck, and carefully shrugged on the light blazer. The slacks weren't as itchy as he'd imagined them to be, and suited the navy blazer quite well-though he'd probably never admit it. He glanced at himself in the full body mirror as he looped the finally fold of his tie, and neatly pulled it into place.

He was as ready as he'd ever be, he supposed.

* * *

><p>It was just past 7:30 and boys were starting to linger around in the halls, some speaking in groups, other yelling loudly as they pranced around. Others were dangerously quiet, lurking about silently, dark eyes narrowed as they walked past, sending nervous chills down Kurt's spine.<p>

He held his breath as he timidly walked along the marble floors, clutching his satchel to him, his schedule held firmly in his hand.

They were staring at him again, a few people sneering at him, but like it was in the dining hall the previous night, there were one or two guards monitoring the halls and all the boys kept their hands to themselves—for the most part.

Kurt flinched as a large boy was shoved harshly into him by another uniformed boy. Kurt recognized him as the boy with the huge scar running down his face. He snarled at Kurt, and pushed past him, spitting out a string of curse words at the kid who shoved him, and angrily made his way back down the hall.

Kurt took a deep breath and tried to pretend he was anywhere else but here, drowning in the sea of red and blue blazers.

And somehow, he managed to get to his first three classes unharmed.

His first period teacher looked like a very sad excuse for a human being. Kurt figured teaching at a school like this probably did that to a person. He was middle aged, perhaps early forties, though he looked much older. He wore thick glasses and had a comb-over that Kurt felt would look much better if he just shaved it all off. But the homework assigned was easy—even easier than it was at McKinley, which was really saying something. But Kurt had figured that much. A school full of delinquents probably didn't have too much interest in things like advanced Trigonometry or Calculus.

His second and third period teachers were the cruel, no bullshit teachers. They made Kurt's arm hairs stand on end whenever they spoke, but at least they kept the students in check. In those classrooms—Kurt at least felt _safe._

Though it was still an hour to noon, Kurt was already exhausted by the time he was on his making his way to his fourth period class. The place was _huge _for a reform school, and Kurt had to practically jog from one class to the next to make it in time.

And even with a map clutched in his hands, and his generally very sharp coordination skills, Kurt had still managed to get slightly—okay, _extremely—_lost on his way to fourth. His eyes scanned his schedule. He had Armstrong this period, room 113 in the north wing. Where the heck was the north wing? Was _wing _was he even in?

The bell had rung and the halls had emptied except for the few hard looking guards at the end of each hallway.

Exasperated, Kurt walked around in what seemed like circles. Every corridor was identical and Kurt couldn't tell if he'd already been down it or not, and even when he _thought _he'd found room 113, it turns out he was in the west wing—not the north-and resulted in a fairly awkward, not to mention overly dramatic, false entrance.

When Kurt finally made it to the north wing, he was already nearly 15 minutes late—which couldn't be good. The class was the loudest in the hall.

Kurt could already hear the jeering and talking from just the outside the door before he hesitantly walked in.

The room was exploding with laughter, and people yelling. Kurt grimaced slightly—feeling a headache coming along.

There was a small man seated at the teacher's desk at the far corner of the room. Kurt approached him cautiously, hoping he wouldn't get some sort of strike or whatever Ms. Harvey was talking about to get his privileges taken from him.

"Excuse me, Mr. Armstrong?" Kurt asked meekly, trying to get the teacher's attention. The small weak looking man had his eyes glued to his computer screen, taking his time to peel his eyes away to look at Kurt.

"I'm sorry?" The man answered, looking at Kurt impatiently.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Mr. Armstrong. I'm new and I got a little lost—" Kurt began.

"Oh I'm not Mr. Armstrong. I'm Steve." The man cut off. "Mr. Armstrong had an—an…_accident._" Kurt saw him wince a little as he said the word, but he quickly turned his eyes back to Kurt. "I don't know when he'll be back…_if he comes back…_" Steve murmured under his breath, "And until they get an actual replacement. I'm just here to make sure everyone is _actually _here."

Kurt nodded, now starting to realize why this class was so out of control.

"What's your name?" Steve asked, reaching for a clipboard to check off Kurt's name.

"Kurt…Kurt Hummel," Kurt replied.

"Alright Kurt, you may…join the rest of the class." Steve shot Kurt a sympathetic smile—Kurt was sure getting sick of those—and turned back to his computer screen.

Kurt sighed and turned on his heel, his head starting to pound already. Just 40 more minutes, he thought to himself.

Kurt looked up to scan the room. It was completely and utterly out of control. Kurt was sure he could see a few kids in the back _smoking. _Kurt weaved his way through the desks. Barely any of the boys were actually _sitting _in the desks, some of them on them, while others just ran around the room recklessly.

Kurt spotted an empty desk near the back and began walking towards it.

He'd almost reached it, avoiding getting touched by any of the other boys, when his eyes caught a familiar piercing glare of hazel.

_Blaine._

Kurt's breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of Blaine in the furthest corner away, leaning in a chair, his legs propped up on desk. He had a cigarette between his lips and was laughing with a crowd of boys that were surrounding his desk.

Kurt tried to avoid looking at him, scrambling to his desk as quickly as he could, but Blaine had already caught sight of him, flashing him that ever looming smirk.

One of the boys standing by Blaine nudged Blaine and pointed at Kurt, whispering something into Blaine's ear that made him laugh. A few of the other rough looking ones of the bunch surrounding Blaine also turned to look at Kurt.

Kurt kept his eyes down and tried focusing his attention on some inappropriate words scrawled on his desk, but he could still feel their eyes on him, see them sneering from the corner of his eye.

"Hey! Hey, Pretty Boy! Tell us what you're in here for!" One of Blaine's minions yelled, walking towards Kurt, and glancing every once in a while back at his friends as they egged him on.

Kurt swallowed nervously, trying his best to ignore the prick.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" The boy's voice got higher by a few octaves.

It was obvious to Kurt that this kid was searching for some sort of approval from the other boys, constantly glancing back at them-Blaine in particular-to see if he was successfully amusing them with his tantalizing.

"It's none of your business…" Kurt hissed, refusing to look the jerk in the eyes. He was a messy looking one, with red rimmed eyes, and messy blonde hair. Not to mention he was freakishly thin, with dark almost purpleish bags under his eyes. The very sight of him name Kurt feel sick.

Kurt heard a few of the other boys cheering him on, with Blaine in the center, just watching in silent observation blonde boy moved toward Kurt.

The Blonde boy-Dixon, Kurt gathered from the other boy's chanting-strode up to Kurt's desk and touched Kurt's blazer lapel. Kurt flinched and swatted his hand away.

The taller boy pretended to tend to his wounded hand.

"_Oh, _a feisty one huh?" he purred into Kurt's ear.

Kurt turned away and focused his attention out the window. _Only 34 more minutes._

Dixon leaned over onto Kurt's desk, a few of his buddies coming over to crowd around as well, chuckling as he continued to harass him. Kurt could feel his cheeks heat up with embarrassment, fear, and weirdly enough…_irritation_. What the _hell _was this guy's problem, anyways?

The boy propped himself up on his elbows, and batted his eyes mockingly at Kurt, pulling at Kurt's tie teasingly. Kurt pushed him away again—his patience wearing thin.

Kurt was about it get up and move when he felt Dixon's hand at has lapel again, but before he could, Blaine had marched up from where he was sitting, and pulled Dixon up by the shoulder and shoved him harshly into a desk.

"Cut the bullshit Dixon—people are going to start thinking you're in here for being a motherfucking sexual predator." Blaine spat, tossing his cigarette on the floor and crushing it beneath his heel.

Dixon looked slightly ruffled, a slight look of fear washing over his face as Blaine snarled at him. Blaine glanced over at Kurt his eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance. He let his eyes gloss over Kurt quickly, eyes trailing down along the buttons of Kurt's blazer. There was something that seemed to be grabbing Blaine's attention, and Kurt flushed in embarrassment.

Blaine shook his head and turned his attention back to the blonde haired boy, Dixon.

Dixon's tired eyes were opened wide, staring at Blaine with mild fear, cowering against the desk Blaine had shoved him into.

Kurt wondered how Blaine did it. All the other boys were bigger than Blaine, much, _much_ bigger. Blaine actually looked rather scrawny next to them. Sure, he was well built—Kurt had figured that out the hard way-but he was also shorter and thinner in comparison to pretty much everyone else around him. But even so, still held a sort of air of power over all of them, which was surprising to Kurt.

The other boys were silent, as if waiting for Blaine to say something more.

Maybe a little _too _much power, Kurt thought to himself. Just one glance and they cowered? One seemingly amused smile, and they lit up? It was unsettling.

"I—I didn't know he was your um, I didn't know he was a buddy of yours Blaine. I was just doing what we usually new to newbies, you know? Messing with him—I—I didn't know he—"

Blaine waved him off, and he closed his mouth immediately. "_Shut up, _Dixon. Jesus, your voice is fucking irritating today. And he isn't my anything." Blaine shot Kurt an indifferent look. "He's...he's…look, the warden made him my new roommate, alright?"

Kurt was shocked at how fast that corner of the room fell silent, a few boys passed each other uneasy looks.

"They...they...but Liam..." One boy began bravely.

Blaine whipped his head around, shooting the kid a death glare. "Don't. Say. Another_. Word_." Blaine's voice was practically dripping with venom.

The words weren't even directed at Kurt, and yet he felt his heart skip a beat in his chest.

The boy blanched and closed his mouth immediately, dropping his eyes to the floor, almost trembling.

Blaine shook his head, and squeezed his eyes shut. He clamped his hands over the edge of a desk so hard his knuckles turned white and Kurt saw Blaine murmur something under his breath. After a few moments, Blaine's eyes blinked open and his shoulders relaxed a little.

The other boys all let out a breath of relief at the same time—even _more _unsettling to Kurt.

"Just leave the new kid the fuck alone," Blaine snapped. "I don't want to have to deal with his pouty face all night because one of you dumbasses _hurt his feelings_ or something. I have enough shit to deal with." Blaine rolled his eyes and glanced coldly over to Kurt one last time, before returning to his chair and propping his feet up once again.

Kurt peeled his eyes away, and went back to focusing on the words etched onto his desk, and willing time to pass quicker so he could just _leave._

Blaine's behavior was confusing him though—hot one minute, cold the next. Kurt couldn't understand why he had to be so seething all the time.

But Kurt hadn't seen the sly grin wash over Blaine's face just then. Blaine cleared his throat and his posse of thugs turned to face him. A few of them looked rather alarmed that their ring leader was even _smiling. _It seemed like almost a rare occurrence to see the corners of Blaine's lips lift into a smile—no one knew exactly what it meant when it wasn't tainted with malice or mischief.

"And _if _you're so curious, the reason pretty boy is in here is because he was caught..._shop lifting_"

Blaine kept his eyes trained on Kurt, as if knowing it was taking almost all of Kurt's energy to keep from turning towards him.

"Isn't that right Kurt?" Blaine prodded again, when he still was unable to get Kurt's attention, teasingly drumming his fingers against the desktop.

A few of the braver boys chuckled nervously, while others were still uncertain about Blaine's sudden change in mood.

Kurt gritted his teeth together and he could feel his ears go hot. "I told you the reason I'm here is _none_ of your business!"

Kurt's voice cracked as he tried to keep his composure, and turned to shoot Blaine a furious look.

He'd had a horrible enough day as it is, and he _didn't_ need Blaine to sit there mocking him for a few laughs and pats on the shoulder from his friends.

"Oh, I'm sorry...its called "borrowing", am I right?" Blaine said with a laugh.

The boys surrounding him seemed to relax a bit and chuckle along with Blaine.

They were supposed to quit messing with him, but mocking him was okay now? Kurt clenched his teeth. Maybe it was only Blaine that was allowed to mock him. The other boys fell silent after a few awkward moments—the tension now beginning to fill up the room.

Kurt scowled and averted his eyes from the pack of _Neanderthals, _and stared at the clock again.

_Only 13 more minutes to go._

* * *

><p>Blaine grinned as he watched Kurt bolt out of the classroom the moment the lunch bell rang.<p>

It was amusing, watching Kurt getting all riled up over nothing. It was a nice change of pace from the usual type of guys they got here at Dalton, and besides, teasing Kurt was quite possibly one of the only things that has gotten him to genuinely smile in—god only knows _how_ long.

Blaine couldn't quite figure out what it was about Kurt that seemed to catch his attention, he just..._did_. He also had to admit he got sort of got a kick out of teasing him—not so much that he wanted him to miserable or anything—but enough to ruffle him up, and see the color rise to his cheeks. It was…Blaine didn't know…cute? It made him laugh, and it'd been too long since he'd done that.

He slowly swung his legs off the desk and waited for the other guys to file out before he did.

As usual he found his friends—the only two people he even _remotely _trusted in the whole school—Wes and David-standing at the doorway, waiting for him to join them for lunch.

Blaine nodded at them, still smiling to himself. He rolled his eyes at their confused expressions.

Yeah—it'd been too long since he last smiled. The feeling was almost foreign to him by now.

"You okay, Blaine?" David asked, as Blaine walked toward the door, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

Blaine swung his arms over the others two boys and sighed, "Why the fuck would you ask me something like that? You know my life is shit."

Wes shoved Blaine off of him and eyed him curiously, "Did Rat Tail slip you something? You're acting weird."

Blaine shook his head, "You two are _too _uptight."

David burst out into laughter, "_We're_ uptight? You're fucking with us right?"

Wes rolled his eyes, but his usually tense expression softened slightly. "Speaking of _uptight, _maybe someone just finally agreed to fuck him or something—maybe a little blow job, to calm the nerves?"

Blaine and David began laughing again, David slumping against Blaine as the two of them snickered uncontrollably.

"Shut up, asshole." Blaine choked out, elbowing Wes in the ribs as they rounded the corner toward the dining hall.

Wes's expression fell cold once more, clearing his throat and straightening out his face.

"Actually—I have something to tell you guys."

David and Blaine froze, and Blaine removed his arm from around David's shoulder.

"Wait—what?"

Wes sighed and he glanced around the hall cautiously, stopping just before the main dining hall door.

"I—I got in touch with J again. I'll tell David when I get more info, but I'm still on goddamn dorm arrest," Wes murmured, "I won't be able to write you a note or anything again."

"I will," David replied, glancing over to Blaine, "If Wes gets some news by tonight, I'll drop by your dorm. I can get by the guards when they change shifts."

Blaine shook his head, "Roommate. A note is fine."

David nodded. He shot his friends a warning look when a he caught sight of a guard eyeing them suspiciously from the opposite end of the hall, and the three quickly fell silent. Blaine glared at the guard until he disappeared around the corner, and out of sight before pushing open the main dining hall doors, leading rest of the trio in.

* * *

><p>As much as Kurt didn't want to even <em>think <em>about Blaine right now—he couldn't help but agree with his roommates previous warnings about the school's lunch. _Awful. _Even McKinley and its old prison food was better than the lunch here. And saying the lunch here was _worse _than prison food…was pretty alarming.

Kurt glanced over a few tables over, spotting the familiar figure immediately.

Blaine had strolled in a few minutes after him, pushing open the double doors with a pair of his minions Kurt didn't recognize. His cocky smirk was now gone and had regressed back to its usual, cold stare.

He'd planted himself a top one of one of the tables—why was that guy always climbing on furniture?—and was now tossing an apple up in the air as he talked in hushed tones with the two other boys. Every once in a while Blaine would look up and Kurt would accidentally catch the blazing hazel eyes with his, but it didn't seem like Blaine had noticed.

Kurt couldn't quite decide which he liked better—or better yet, which he _dis_liked more. Blaine's arrogant leer, or the stone cold, and frighteningly intense gaze.

Kurt shook his head and went back to poking at the mushy slop on his plate. He couldn't tell if it was potatoes, some kind of meatloaf, or possibly a bizarre combination of the two.

Feeling too irritated and annoyed, Kurt got up from his table and decided he'd lost his appetite anyways. It was probably best he go and look for where his 5th class was anyways. He didn't want to risk being late to a class there was an _actual _teacher watching over them.

As he got up, he found himself smacking right into the freaky looking guy with the scar slashed down his face he'd spotted on his first day, and earlier that morning. The boy had been carrying a small bowl of chunky looking soup and some of it had spilt onto Kurt's blazer sleeve.

Kurt sighed in irritation.

This day was just getting better and better…

* * *

><p>Wes was murmuring something he'd heard from one of his outside connections, when Blaine's eyes caught on something slightly alarming in the middle of the dining hall.<p>

Blaine's eyes narrowed, Wes and David's conversation slowly drowning out into the background.

_He wouldn't, _Blaine thought to himself.

Blaine eyes were locked on two familiar figures standing face to face just a few tables away. Scarface Skylar was towering over Kurt's small frame, his ever-present scowl growing more irritated by the second, and the shorter boy was saying something Blaine couldn't quite make out, and glaring angrily up at him. He was rubbing at something on his sleeve, his face flushed with annoyance.

_He wouldn't, _Blaine repeated, not knowing why his heart rate had begun at speed up.

Blaine was almost afraid to look away. He glanced around, in spite of himself. Surely, one of the guards should have intervened by—_fuck. _No guards on duty today.

Blaine growled under his breath as he noticed the walls free of guards. The only _even remotely _authoritarian figures were the plump little lunch ladies—and they themselves were hiding behind the food counters like their lives depended on it-and Blaine knew they weren't going to intercede.

Blaine groaned, his eyes darting back to the heated scene beginning to unfold.

He could see Scarface's eyes harden, and angrily toss his bowl of—whatever the fuck it was—onto the nearest table, sending the small styrofoam bowl shattering on impact.

If Kurt was frightened by the gesture, he didn't show it. Blaine saw Kurt's face flush with anger and then poke the bigger boy in the chest with a single finger, forcing him a few steps back from shock, still saying words Blaine couldn't understand over the other noise filling the room.

The entire dining hall had turned toward the two boys now. Any _sane _person knew to stay away from Scarface—and even the _in_sane ones didn't bother to mess with him.

Surely, Blaine thought, Kurt couldn't be foolish enough to pick a fight with a guy twice his size, with a scar on his face the size of a yardstick.

_Please, tell me he wouldn't, _Blaine found himself pleading.

Blaine watched anxiously as Kurt continued to press at Scarface's notably short temper.

Blaine could practically could already _see _the steam coming out of his ears, and he was wondering why the _hell _Kurt hadn't made a run for it yet. It almost looked like he was asking for it, like he _wanted _to get beaten, or something.

* * *

><p>Kurt grit his teeth together angrily, all the anger and bitterness from the day suddenly boiling over, leaving Kurt more agitated than ever.<p>

He had had enough.

He'd barely made it through _half _a day in this cruddy place without jerks pushing him, and shoving into him. He'd gotten lost on his way to class, and then got harassed by some creep in his fourth period class, and had to endure getting touched and tugged on. Then he'd been made a joke of in front of all of Blaine's little friends, and _now_, after the morning he'd had, this guy, this _ape_ of sorts, was blaming him when _he _was the one who'd spilled—what Kurt _hoped_ was clam chowder judging from the foul smell—all over his stupid uniform!

Kurt was done. His patience was wearing thin, barely able to contain his anger any longer.

"Are you _really _trying to get yourself killed pretty boy?" The clumsy giant growled, lowering his face to just inches above Kurt's.

Kurt glared at him, his adrenaline rushing.

He could feel the other's boy's breath against his skin and it made him shake with disgust.

"Are _you _trying to get someone killed?" Kurt shrieked in reply, glancing at the remains of the other boy's soup scattered around the floor and on the table next to him, "You don't just throw your food down like that!"

The taller boy teeth pulled into a scowl. "_Excuse _me?"

Kurt glanced down at his own blazer, "_And _you splattered more of that goop on my uniform on purpose! I may not love this outfit, but it's the only one I'm allowed. I'd prefer not to smell like rotting clams for the rest of the day."

That was it.

The scar faced boy snarled and lifted up a fist, pulling it back, with every intention to mess up the pretty porcelain face before him—when suddenly, out of nowhere, the fist was caught in a hand—just millimeters before it came in contact with Kurt's face.

Kurt had cowered at the last minute, squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for the impact.

The dining room fell silent.

Kurt opened his eyes to find Blaine standing in front of him, the other boy's clenched fist in Blaine's hand.

Blaine pushed the tall boy backward as he released his fist, and quickly pulled him down to eyelevel by the blazer lapels.

"Back off, Scarface," Blaine warned in a dangerously low voice, his eyes dark and menacing.

Kurt felt like he was going to pass out from fear or shock.

"This is _none _of your business Anderson" Scarface said with a scowl, "this kid is _going _to get what he deserves."

Blaine didn't break eye contact, "He's very sorry. Now _back off, _before _you_ regret it._"_

Kurt turned around to see that the two boys who'd come in with Blaine had materialized behind them and were both glaring at the towering boy with the gash on his face.

The giant looked around, noticing the entire dining hall had turned its focus on the spectacle that was going down. He wringed himself out of Blaine's grasp, pulling his at his blazer, and stood up to his full height. He glanced around, eyes flicking from Blaine to the two boys standing behind him.

"Fine," Scarface finally muttered reluctantly, "I didn't realize he was your newest little boyfriend, Anderson."

Blaine was about to jump at him when he felt two hands grab him back by the shoulders.

"He's not worth it…" David murmured, giving Blaine a hard, almost warning look.

Blaine shrugged out of their hold and turned back to Scarface. "Beat it, Skylar—before I change my mind."

Kurt watched as the boy gave Blaine and his friends one last grimace, and turning on his heel, pushing past whoever was in his way _violently, _and exited the hall.

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Blaine turned around to face him. His eyes were burning with a rage he'd never known was even _possible. _His hazel eyes were dark, darker than he'd ever seen them, narrowed into two angry slits that made Kurt's heart freeze in his chest.

Blaine grabbed his wrist forcibly, and pulled him out of the dining room, not pausing for a second to look at Kurt's started gaze-even as he was dragging them both up the stairs towards the dorms.

* * *

><p>Blaine burst through their room, flinging the door open with a loud thud, and pulling Kurt in by the arm and shoving him in harshly.<p>

"What the _fuck _were you thinking?" Blaine screamed. "This is Dalton! Not some playground where you can just throw your little diva fits whenever you fucking please! Do you _know _what kind of people you're messing with in here? They didn't just accidentally rob a department store or, I don't know—grow weed in their backyards! These people are arsonists, assaulters; some of them are even here for third degree _manslaughter, _okay?" Blaine was fuming, his eyes blazing as he yelled.

Kurt stood in stunned silence, Blaine's harsh words ripping through him. He was too frightened to even speak—wincing as his own eyes caught the burning hazel flames in Blaine's.

"Don't _ever _do anything so fucking stupid again—and don't expect me to save your ass next time either," Blaine growled. He gave Kurt one last piercing glance before turning and storming out of the dorm room just as quickly as he'd entered, slamming the door shut as he left.

Kurt was left alone, not knowing quite what to do next. It had all happened so fast he didn't even know how to feel. It was all just too overwhelming to process.

He could feel tears stinging the back of his eyes, but he refused to shed them. Not here. Not now. Not after all that.

Feeling a bit too shaken up to return to his classes, Kurt laid down on his bed, his head resting against the headboard.

Even with it's high ceilings and intricate marble floors, it seemed Kurt had misjudged this place for what it really was.

He was starting to realize Dalton Academy was a _whole lot _scarier than he'd ever thought it could be.

* * *

><p>Blaine came back to the dorm around 4pm, tossing his blazer onto his chair and throwing his bag onto his bed, A hard, emotionless expression on his face.<p>

Kurt couldn't tell if he was upset, or if he just always looked like that.

By now, Kurt had mostly gotten over the shock of his almost-fight and Blaine's later confrontation, and was currently in the middle of doing homework when his roommate returned. He'd skipped his 5th and 6th period classes, but he hoped that he could maybe just explain what had happened tomorrow and avoid getting into trouble. He just hoped it'd be enough to still keep his privileges. He was desperately waiting for when his decent behavior would pay off, and he could finally go back home for a weekend or two. He'd only been at this school for a day and a half and he was already desperate for an escape.

Kurt peered cautiously over at the other side of the room, careful not to get caught looking.

Blaine wasn't paying him any attention-not that he ever actively did-but even though no words were spoken, Kurt could feel the air between them was cold and tense. Kurt glanced back to his homework and decided that it was probably best not to bother him. He didn't want to risk angering Blaine again.

They stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon. Kurt working on homework, and reading a few magazines he'd brought with him when he'd finished, and Blaine at his own desk, mauling over something Kurt was sure wasn't homework. He then later regressed back to his usual position—Kurt observed—which was silently reading on his bed, a brand new book open on his lap.

At around 5:45 Kurt's stomach began to rumble.

Though he'd planned on skipping dinner after what had happened at lunch this afternoon, it seemed his stomach didn't seem to agree with the idea. It shouldn't have been surprising though, since Kurt had skipped breakfast and had barely managed a few bites at lunch.

Reluctantly, Kurt got up from his desk and pulled on a Dalton Academy sweatshirt, and got ready to go down to the dining hall for dinner.

He chanced one last look over to Blaine, who hadn't moved from his bed in what seemed like hours.

Kurt wondered if Blaine was ignoring him, or if he genuinely didn't care about Kurt's presence there. Either way, Kurt found himself wishing that Blaine would at least acknowledge him. Even if he was still upset, it was better than being disregarded completely.

Kurt closed the door and sighed, shutting the door softly behind him.

* * *

><p>The guards were back in the dining hall that evening, and Kurt relaxed a little as he moved through the crowd.<p>

He got his tray, and sat down at an empty table, and ate as quickly as he could. He wanted to avoid all the looks and shoves the other boys—_wait_.

Kurt blinked a little as he scanned the room. No one was paying him any attention. No one was looking at him, no one was 'accidentally' pushing past him. No one had bumped him while he ate, or sneered at him as they passed by. There was no sight of the hulking boy with the scar, and everyone else was pretty much just _normal. _Well, as normal gets. There was still a tweaked out kid muttering words to himself at the table beside him, and a couple of heavily tattooed boys in the far corner terrorizing one of the lunch ladies with profane gestures.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. Was it—was it because of what had happened at lunch?

Kurt could certainly assume Blaine held some sort of power at this school. Even just from seeing him in one class and briefly at lunch before all havoc broke loose, it was obvious he was both feared and somewhat respected by a majority of the boys here.

Were people afraid to mess with _him_ now after Blaine had stood up for him? Perhaps it was unusual for Blaine to come to other people's defense. Kurt definitely didn't see him as quite the selfless, heroic type. Maybe his actions weren't only a shock to himself—but the rest of the school as well.

Kurt shook the thought out of his head, and reminded himself to just be content with that fact that people were leaving him alone—whatever the reason may be.

He finished up the last of his meal, happy to be rid of the nagging feeling of hunger he'd had for the last few hours and stood up to dispose his dinner tray.

As Kurt went to toss his trash, his mind began drifting back to Blaine. Though Kurt was unsure of whether or not Blaine had eaten breakfast, it was pretty clear Blaine couldn't have gotten through much of his lunch thanks to Kurt—and he wasn't even _allowed_ dinner.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Kurt sighed and walked over to where the food was being served and shoveled some of leftover dinner onto a paper plate.

Even if Blaine chose not to eat it, Kurt couldn't just sit by, knowing that his roommate—who'd risked his butt to protect his—was going hungry that night.

* * *

><p>Blaine heard the familiar sound of a key jiggling at the door.<p>

So his roommate was back.

Blaine's eyes flicked to the door for a brief moment before dropping his gaze, and focused his attention back on his book.

Kurt's dark figure slipped into the dorm quietly, his eyes blinking as they adjusted to the dim lighting—the only light turned on was the one at Blaine's desk, flashing just enough light for him to read his book.

Blaine could see Kurt walk over to his side of the room through the corner of his eye, and set some stuff down on his desk. He could feel Kurt's anxious eyes on him, and Blaine secretly hoped that Kurt could just take a hint and leave him alone. He was in a groggy mood as it was, and with everything that had happened today-his conversation with the guys at lunch, the possibility of getting new information, not to mention that whole thing with Kurt at lunch-he wasn't exactly sunshines and rainbows that evening. He was still pretty pissed off about the backlash and cheeky comments from the other boys that he'd had to deal with after school.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked timidly, breaking the silence.

_Damn it, _Blaine thought to himself, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

"I—um, I know you didn't get to each much lunch today, be—because of me so I um…" Blaine turned his head to see Kurt shifting uncomfortably where he stood, struggling to find the right words.

"I grabbed you some food from the dining hall. I don't really know what you like but the chicken was pretty good so I just…" Kurt trailed off, when Blaine didn't speak.

Kurt awkwardly crossed the room and set a paper plate and a plastic fork onto Blaine's desk. He smiled hesitantly and then quickly crossed back to his side of the room to gather up his things for his shower.

Within a few minutes Kurt was gone again, and Blaine was left alone in the silence of the dark room.

Blaine gently laid his book down on the bed and glanced over at the plate of food, the sight alone-though probably _very _unappealing in any other circumstance-made his stomach growl in hunger.

His pride told him not to eat it—why should he have to take anything Kurt offered him? But his stomach was protested with violent grumbles and Blaine honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten a proper meal.

Fuck the warden for taking his dinners away, Blaine murmured. They were the only decent thing this school had.

With a defeated sigh, Blaine leaned over and grabbed the food from his desk and began to eat it, his pride forgotten as his hunger slowly faded away.

Just as he was scraping the last few bites of food from his plate, there was a slight knock at his door, and another note scribbled on a crumpled piece of lined paper was slipped under the door.

Blaine abandoned his empty plate on his desk and got up to retrieve it, his heartbeat suddenly quickening, and anger boiling up in his chest.

_This was it._

* * *

><p>When Kurt returned back to the dorm, he half expected Blaine to still be on his bed reading, but to his surprise, Blaine was actually pacing back and forth, a scowl on his face, and his hands folded atop his head.<p>

Blaine again, ignored his arrival, and Kurt sighed and quietly went to his side of the room to put down his shower stuff and put away his uniform.

Kurt looked over at Blaine, still walking back and forth across the room. He was curious as to why Blaine looked so angry all the time—especially now. His eyes were squeezed shut as he paced, exposing his long eyelashes that fanned over his cheeks. He was attractive, Kurt admitted to himself. He had handsome and distict features, and cleaned himself up better than most of the guys here. He wasn't tall, but he was well built, and his face was cleanly shaved, with just the trace of stubble creeping along his jaw. Yeah, he was definitely attractive.

Kurt shook his head at the intrusive thought and quickly waved it away as he went to set up his three fold mirror on his desk and get started on his nightly facial routine.

His eyes gazed past Blaine's desk on the opposite side of the room, and Kurt was actually surprised to see that Blaine had eaten all the food on the plate Kurt had given him. Kurt smiled to himself, and turned away—feeling strangely happy that his small act of kindness was accepted.

Kurt knew he and Blaine probably weren't going to become best friends or anything, but Kurt hoped they could at least be civil with each other.

Hopefully this was a start.

* * *

><p>Kurt was doing his face thing again, Blaine observed, glancing over at Kurt.<p>

He had barely even noticed he'd come in, the kid had the silent footing of a goddamn fox. Blaine glanced over at the empty plate sitting on his desk and he realized that he should probably thank Kurt for the gesture, but Blaine figured it was some sort of peace offering for what had happened that afternoon.

Kurt finished applied his half a dozen creams and lotions to his face and was moving onto the little spray bottle things.

Blaine sighed and figured it was too late to say something now. Too much time had passed since Kurt had come in and things were still painfully tense, and it would just be awkward. Besides, he'd probably just sound like an asshole given the shitty mood he was in.

Blaine stopped pacing the floor and collapsed tiredly onto his bed. He glared at the note that was resting on his desk. Anger and redemption hanging in the back of his mind.

The note on Blaine's desk was written in David's scrawl this time.

_Blaine. _

_J said he'll manage to pay you a visit next week, the morning before everything goes down. Be ready. Me and Wes will meet you at the usual spot at 4. Wes says the warden has guards keeping an eye on all three of us, so we need to try not to get spotted together too much until then._

_We're getting revenge this time._

Blaine grabbed the crumpled note from his desk and ripped it into pieces, before tossing the remaining strips into the wastebasket beside the desk.

_Yes, _Blaine thought to himself, _this time I will. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Hey guys! Hope you're enjoying the fic! I know my version of Dalton is sort of **_**romanticized **_**I'm sure most reform schools aren't like how I describe it but…idk, it just looks like that in my head xD**

**Warnings: Language, references to violence**

**Disclaimer: I do not own glee! (:**

* * *

><p><strong>Risk It All<strong>

**Chapter 3**

Kurt's next few days at Dalton academy went pretty smoothly-well as smoothly as it could go. He didn't think he'd ever really adjust to the dark scowls of the boys passing by him in the halls, or the unsettlingly shifty eyes of some of his classmates, but he hadn't faced any real face to face confrontation since his first day. Though he was still trying to get a grip on his compulsive need to read all the visible tattoos peeking out from some of the boys' Dalton Academy uniforms. It seemed getting caught staring at some guy's exposed neck tattoo or the misspelled block print letters on the back of a shaved head just landed Kurt with nothing but vaguely threatening scowls and a damn-near audible growl.

Also, things seemed to be looking up with his roommate, Blaine. Granted they were far from being _friends, but _at least they'd developed a somewhat civil understanding between them, and any tension that had initially resided had slowly faded away since Kurt's shabby attempt at a peace offering the other night.

They didn't really speak much-both of them distracted with other things-but even when no words were exchanged and their dorm room was filled with nothing but the soft sounds of pages being turned and the soft clicks of fingers on a keyboard from Kurt's laptop, it was always a comfortable silence.

When they were alone together in the dorm, or even just passing each other as one was just returning back to the room as the other left. They would sometimes share a brief exchange or words, Kurt saying a soft greeting, or Blaine with his little, teasing remarks, always smiling if he managed to catch that slight blush flush across Kurt's cheeks.

Kurt had fallen into a pattern here at Dalton Academy, and he didn't even notice.

Blaine was always gone by the time Kurt awoke, and Kurt was left to decide whether he wanted to go down to the dining hall for breakfast, or sleep in a few more minutes, and skip the meal all together.

They didn't see each other again until fourth period—the only class they shared.

They still hadn't found a replacement math teacher yet, so the class continued to be watched over by Steve, along with the addition of the two guards in the back. It seemed the warden had finally caught wind of the reckless behavior going on in the class—Kurt figured she could probably hear the class from a wing over, and the guards were instated.

Rumor had it that it was a difficult task getting a substitute teacher for a school like Dalton Academy, and the district didn't even _provide_ substitutes anymore. Apparently there was an incident in the fall of 2009, involving a substitute, three guards, an English class, and so much psychological damage, the poor soul had to quit her job, vowing never to teach again. So now, if a teacher needed a few sick days, the Warden was on her own in finding a person willing to watch over a classroom full of potentially threatening misfits, usually opting to just instate a few guards until the teacher was well enough (and willing) to return.

Kurt didn't mind it too much though, he barely learned anything new in the classes that _had _qualified teachers, anyways. The curriculum for the school was a lot simpler and broken down than even _Mckinley,_ and Kurt had no problem at all keeping up.

And as far as Blaine went, he was still constantly surrounded by his group of boys, posse, minions, whatever they were. It became clear to Kurt after a few days of observation that Blaine was sort of the ring leader, keeping the boys in line—sort of. But what struck Kurt as strange was the fact that Blaine was actually quite the lone star when it came to walking the halls and going from class to class. It was clear he was very much respected—that much was obvious-Kurt could tell just from the way other boys acted around him that he was also feared. There weren't too many that dared to get too close to him, or say anything that could possibly anger him. The only two people Kurt even saw completely comfortable around Blaine were the two guys who'd backed Blaine up during the encounter with Scarface last week. They were the only ones at Blaine's table at meals, and they were the only ones genuinely friendly with Blaine, completely unfazed by the air of authority Blaine seemed to hold on the other boys.

In their fourth period class, Kurt could see Blaine had his own thing going, and knew well to keep his distance. They'd nod curtly at each other, and Blaine would turn back to his guys, and Kurt would focus on doing his light homework from earlier periods. Trying to be productive amidst the barely contained class of chaos. At least no one was smoking now with the recent addition of guards, but the noise level was still quite the same.

In the evenings, Kurt would either go back to the dorm around 3, or hang around the library, which was usually empty—which was expected. There was no soliciting, smoking, loitering or loud talking allowed, so naturally, no one came. Kurt enjoyed the peace though. Most of the other boys hung out around the indoor and outdoor rec areas, stalked with general entertainment for the boys and lined with guards to keep them all in line.

Kurt didn't exactly know what Blaine did with his afternoons but he didn't usually get back to the dorm till 4 or 5 in the evening.

It'd only been a little over a week since Kurt first arrived at Dalton Academy, but even so, he had slowly begun to adjust to this new normal.

And this morning had been no different. It was a Wednesday—8 days since Kurt's first arrival at Dalton. And as usual, Blaine's bed was empty, again sparking Kurt's curiosity as to where the boy went every morning. He knew he also got up early to shower in the mornings as well, but he'd never run into Blaine while he went down to the bathroom to brush his teeth and stuff in the mornings, and figured Blaine was just an early riser.

Kurt shook the thought away, and slowly pushed his covers, stretching his arms as he prepared for a new day.

* * *

><p>The cool January air bit at Blaine's finger tips and cheeks as he waited out at one of the side fences of the school. This was the only time he could meet anyone from the outside without getting caught.<p>

There was a short twenty minute gap when the night guards that watched over the east fences, changed shifts with the day time guards, leaving the only guards on call at the main entrances and exits.

Blaine rubbed his cold fingers together, and pulled his beanie down lower around his forehead and adjusted the hood of his sweatshirt over it.

Damn it was fucking cold out here. Where the _hell_ was J? Wes had said he'd told him to be here on time, but now Blaine only had about 10 minutes left until the guards got here for their shift. If he wasn't here soon, Blaine would have to retreat back into the school.

Blaine rolled his eyes as he heard footsteps coming from around the corner, and saw a familiar face round the bend, smirking at Blaine as he snuck over to the chain link fence.

"What the fuck took you so long?" Blaine growled, looking at the boy expectantly, "I'm freezing my fucking ass out here!"

"Oh no, no" the boy replied sarcastically, "I've been _great_, you?" He shrugged and smiling down at Blaine.

Blaine shot him an impatient look.

The other boy had dirty blond hair falling in messy ringlets on both sides of his face, most of it hidden under the beanie he was wearing, but a few curls peaked out of the front. His sharp green eyes were nearly blinding in the dim morning air, and Blaine was suddenly reminded of identical green eyes he'd once known so well, and he felt a sudden pang of sadness in his chest.

"Shut up Jamie," Blaine scowled at him, rolling his eyes in irritation, "We don't have much time. You get me what I need, or what?"

The blonde smiled at him, "Always the lovely conversationalist, Huh Blaine? I always wondered why my brother liked you so much..."

Blaine's eyes narrowed. "Seriously, Shut the fuck up Jamie, I'm not in the mood."

Jamie noticed Blaine's eyes fall to the pavement, his teeth gritting together angrily, so he quickly decided to change the subject, clearing his before speaking again.

He glanced around, to make sure no one was around, before handing Blaine a slip of paper, and a small leather pouch.

Blaine stuffed both in his sweatshirt pocket and nodded at Jamie.

"Details are all written on there. Place, which street, rules, and—"

"—Rules?" Blaine laughed hollowly, "Like those bastards play by rules. We wouldn't be wrapped up in this bullshit if they played by the rules."

Jamie nodded in silent agreement, "Well anyways, Wes should've told you last week, it's at 4. David told me about his bribe with one of the guards to help you guys sneak out at noon. You know Mark will come get you guys at the usual spot. Be on time, alright. I'll try to make it—"

"—like hell you are," Blaine snarled. "A moron like you will get killed before the thing even starts. I'm not letting you go. Besides you don't know what you're up against. You're still just a kid."

Jamie's green eyes flared a look of irritation, an odd look for the younger boy. "I'm not a kid. I'm a year younger than you. Besides…he was my _brother_," Jamie's eyes softened, "I'm not fucking missing this…"

Blaine could hear the sounds of the new guards opening the main gate, starting to get settled in as they lined up at their positions. Jesus fucking christ, Blaine thought to himself, this place _was _like a fucking prison.

Blaine gave Jamie one last hard glare, leaning close to the chain linked fence, "…but it was _my_ fault. I don't want to have your neck hanging over my head, too."

"Blaine it wasn't your fault, you know it wasn't—" Jamie tried, but Blaine had already turned on his heel and was storming back to the main building.

When Blaine had gotten safely back into the school, it seemed it was was still too early for many of the boys to be wandering the halls. Most were either in the dining hall or still back at their dorms. Blaine silently slipped into an empty corridor, and leaned up against one of the cold walls.

Blaine reached into his pocket and pulled out the leather pouch and the note.

_8th and Main. Behind the abandoned paint warehouse. No weapons—of any kind. 4 o'clock pm._

Blaine grimaced and shoved the paper back into his pocket to show his two buddies later on.

He held the brown pouch in his hands, turning it around as he admired it, his hands trembling slightly as he held it. The initials L.H. were etched on the smooth leather.

Blaine opened it and pulled out a decent sized switchblade from inside. The memory of the last time he'd seen it haunting him.

He shuddered.

_He definitely wasn't playing by the rules this time. This time he was out for revenge._

* * *

><p>Kurt went about his day as usual.<p>

His first through third period classes were normal—though third still left him in quite a bit of shock to say the least…but for the most part he'd gotten used to it. Mrs. Levi was hard on her "no bullshit" policy, and Kurt had just witnessed her scream one of the boys into next week after he dared to talk back to her. Kurt could swear his ears were still ringing from just sitting near the boy.

Kurt rolled his eyes as he noticed there was _still_ was no replacement for Mr. Armstrong, made obvious by the fact that he could clearly hear the class from down the corridor. As he rounded the corner toward to room, he found Steve, as always, standing at the door checking off names.

Blaine was already seated at his usual corner, the usual group of boys lounging on the desks surrounding his.

Kurt noticed something was a little off with Blaine today, though. He had a distant look on his face-much more distracted and intense than usual-and was actually _sitting_ at his desk, _properly, _for the first time. His feet were firmly planted on the ground and his arms rested lightly atop the desk.

He played with a small lighter in his hand-which Kurt couldn't believe wasn't pointed out by any of the three adults in the room-and remained completely unmoved by the surrounding chaos. None of the other guys even dared to speak to him today—opting to leave their silent leader in peace, rather than risk another one of his backlashes.

Kurt walked past him, giving him a curious look, but Blaine didn't even look up, his mind too focused on something else. He didn't even turn to give Kurt his usual nod of acknowledgement-not that Kurt was hoping for it or anything-but he couldn't help but feel disappointed by it.

Kurt went to his usual desk, and pulled out his chemistry textbook and did a few of the simple assigned problems, but for some reason, he kept finding himself looking over at Blaine, wondering what was going through Blaine's head to make him act this way.

Blaine's eyes were focused on the clock at the front of the class, covered in a wad of what appeared to be a mix of spitballs and gum, watching with cold hard eyes as time slowly ticked by. He didn't even break focus, as the room erupted chaotic screaming and yelling. He kept his gaze trained solely at the front of the room, just watching as the minutes passed. Completely unmoved by the barely contained madness around him.

His hands moved down to clutch at the edge of his desk, his grip so tight Kurt could see his knuckles turning white, but still never broke his aze from the clock, not looking away until the lunch bell finally rang, and when it did, Blaine flew out of his desk and out the door before Kurt even had time to blink.

Kurt's curiosity was getting overwhelming, but Blaine was the exact opposite of an open book. It suddenly dawned on Kurt that he knew practically nothing about his roommate, and probably never will. They may live in the same dorm together, but it wasn't like they changed into their pajamas at night and spent hours gossiping about things and telling each other their life stories.

Kurt sighed pushing the curious thoughts from his head and slowly pulled himself up from his desk and followed Steve, the last other person in the room, out the door. He was quickly swept into the sea of students crowding the halls, and made his way down to the dining hall for lunch.

* * *

><p>As much as Kurt tried to keep his thoughts of Blaine from his mind, he couldn't help but notice his absence in the dining hall that afternoon.<p>

It was almost like a reflex. Kurt would sit down at his own table, and his eyes would just wander over in Blaine's direction. Kurt didn't even consciously realize he did it until his eyes fell upon the empty table where Blaine and his two friends usually sat.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He figured Blaine would have at least gotten here first, considering the speed at which he bolted out of the classroom earlier.

Even after a quick gloss over of the room, Kurt still saw no sign of Blaine, and Kurt felt a mix of curiosity and anxiety. _  
><em>

He knew he shouldn't worry-he _wasn't _worrying-but something felt off about the whole situation. Kurt knew Blaine could handle himself in any situation, and that Kurt was new here knew damn well close to nothing about everything, but there was still a nagging in his chest he just couldn't seem to shake, and it made him feel uneasy.

Kurt poked absently at his food and wondered when he'd gotten so creepy about all of this.

It wasn't like he and Blaine were even friends or anything.

Kurt sighed.

Even so, Blaine was the only other person he knew at this school. Even if they weren't friends, Kurt still hoped he was all right.

But then again, Blaine was _Blaine. _It seemed almost ridiculous for Kurt to be even remotely concerned.

Somewhere behind him, Kurt could hear a fight break loose-something that had become a common occurrence around here, Kurt realized. There were some shouts Kurt couldn't make out over the chaos, and the sound of guards yelling. A roll of bread flew past Kurt's head, missing him by mere inches, and Kurt cringed.

He lowered his head and went back to pushing his mystery-meat lasagna around on his plate. It was already getting cold and losing what little appeal it had when he'd had it slapped onto his tray.

Kurt closed his eyes and tried to think of something positive to perhaps get him through this depressing excuse of a day, but came up blank.

This place was just the definition of hell, Kurt thought to himself.

He opened his eyes just as a group of guards were dragging a pair of food covered boys, still screaming hysterically at each other and lunge forward at one another despite the restraints of the guards.

This place _was _hell, Kurt groaned.

* * *

><p>The afternoon passed quickly, thankfully.<p>

His last two classes of the day were quick and easy. Kurt spent most of his time just finishing up homework from previous classes so he wouldn't have to deal with them that afternoon. When the final bell rang, Kurt made a direct bee-line toward the library, making just one small detour to his dorm to pick up some magazines and his laptop he'd brought with him from home to read when he finished.

By the time Kurt returned back to his room that evening, he half expected to find Blaine already back, lounging on his bed or sitting at his desk as usual.

Strangely, he still hadn't returned yet, again sparking Kurt's curiosity, and mild concern about where his roommate disappeared every evening.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Kurt decided to go take a nice long shower while it was still early and he could pretty much guarantee an empty bathroom and unlimited hot water, and go right down to the mall hall in time for dinner.

* * *

><p>When Kurt returned back from the dining hall-still no Blaine in sight-Kurt figured his roommate was probably off doing whatever it was that earned him his high and mighty reputation everyone in the school seemed to know about but him.<p>

Kurt ran the different scenarios in head.

Perhaps he was some sort of teenaged drug lord or the tiny son of a mafia king. Kurt imagined, the barely 5"7' Blaine, standing amongst a group of eight foot tall, greasy haired thugs. Kurt laughed at the thought, but perhaps he wasn't too far off. He _was _surrounded by taller, scarier looking boys on a daily basis, and his hair looked like it was being held together with some sort of extra-strength glue.

Kurt's thoughts were interrupted by an alert sound coming from the laptop on his desk, Rachel's IM icon popping onto the screen and Mercedes' icon popping up beside hers a moment later.

Kurt smiled, feeling suddenly much more relaxed knowing he still had a life outside of this dreary school he'd practically lost himself in.

* * *

><p>An hour later, after all the "I miss you's", "Mckinley is miserable without you's", and "you'll never believe what Mr. Shue made us sing for glee club this week's". They began badgering Kurt questions about his short time at Dalton Academy. As another new question was asked, Kurt began to get the feeling that the girls <em>actually <em>believed he was in some sort of prison.

**M**: _Seriously,_ _how are you holding up Kurt? Is it as dangerous as you said it was your first couple of nights? They haven't still been harassing you have they?_

Kurt sighed, remembering his over-exaggerations to the girls after his near fight experience. Perhaps he should have kept that little tidbit to himself.

**K**: _I don't know, I'm getting used to it._

**R**: _They don't happen to have a glee club or something you could join right? If you showed off your talents, maybe they'll start accepting_ you_ as some sort of leader_.

Kurt rolled his eyes.

**K**: _a glee club at Dalton Academy? Dalton Academy _Reform School_? Funny Rachel._

**R**: _I was just wondering..._

**M**: W_ell, are there at least cute boys there? ;D_

Kurt smirked, yeah if you liked the bad boy type…

Kurt didn't get a chance to reply when he heard an urgent tapping at his window.

Kurt's jaw fell open when he saw Blaine hanging outside the window sill, his face dirty and covered in a few smudges of blood. Kurt had no idea how he was even supporting himself from the third story window, but he quickly rushed over to him and pulled Blaine inside, his hands getting smeared in dirt from Blaine's shirt.

Blaine groaned as he was pulled into the dorm, clutching at his side, and collapsing on the floor as soon as Kurt had hauled him in.

Kurt gasped as he tried to help him up, feebly walking Blaine to his bed, and helping him gently onto it.

"Holy...fucking...shit...this hurts," Blaine groaned, laying his head back against the pillows, squeezing his eyes shut as another jolt of pain seemingly washed over him.

Kurt crossed the room and typed up a quick goodbye to Rachel and Mercedes, and rushed back to his roommate.

"Oh my god. What _happened_?" Kurt stammered, still in shock, "Why are you all...covered in blood? Where the hell did you even go_?_"

Blaine grimaced as he tried to shift in his bed. _  
><em>

"I got into a fight, if it wasn't obvious..." Blaine groaned as he tried to sit up, and Kurt quickly ducked down to help him, letting Blaine swing an arm around his shoulder as he propped him up.

It was apparent to Kurt that Blaine didn't want to talk about it right now, seeing as he was currently in a tremendous amount of pain, so instead of pressing the subject, he decided he needed to focus his energy on actually _helping_ Blaine, and perhaps get answers later.

"Bathroom. Can you help me to the bathroom?" Blaine's winced as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, catching a glimpse of the blood covering his knuckles.

Kurt nodded and pulled Blaine up, the two of them stumbling for a moment as they tried to balance against one another.

Blaine was able to walk. It appeared most of his pain was centered on his side, Kurt figured, judging from the way Blaine's fingers clutched around it.

Blaine was sputtering out a string of swear words as they walked to the bathrooms, cursing it from being so fucking far away from the dorm.

When Kurt had finally managed to get the pair down the hall and through the bathroom doors, Blaine had had enough and plunged down onto the floor almost immediately in exhaustion, leaning up against the row of sinks, his head flopped down in front of him as he panted in an attempt to catch his breath.

Kurt leaned down beside him, crouching on his knees against the cool tiles, looking at Blaine with concerned, almost fearful eyes.

Before Kurt could even say a word, Blaine was pulling his dirty white tee-shirt over his head in one quick motion, causing Kurt to gasp, and his mouth fall open in surprise.

Kurt's eyes raked over Blaine's body, eyes growing wider as he did so. Blaine's rib cage was covered in bumps and scratches, an enormous purple bruise was forming at his side where it appeared someone must have kicked him or hit him really, _really _hard.

Before Kurt even knew was he was doing, he reached over and touched it, flinching a little as Blaine's eyes squeezed shut in pain, emitting a low growl.

Kurt quickly scrambled up from where he was crouching and turned on the sink tap, and ran to the towel rack on the opposite wall. It was there for boys who were too lazy to keep their own towels, and preferred using the ones that were provided. Though Kurt knew they were washed daily, the idea of using towels the other boys had wiped themselves with was _unsettling_ at best, and preferred to use his own.

Kurt grabbed a small hand towel and ran it under the tap, gently squeezing out some of the excess water, and hesitantly knelt back down beside Blaine.

Blaine winced each time he felt the cool cloth touch his body, but he didn't tell Kurt to stop. Instead, he balled his hands into fists, and clenched his teeth together, letting Kurt do what he had to.

"Oh, _fuck, _it hurts," Blaine groaned, and finally had to lightly push Kurt's hands away. "Please, just—just stop for a second."

Kurt pulled back, his eyes filled with worry. "Do you think—do you think you broke anything? Should you see a nurse or—or maybe a—"

Blaine cut him off with a wave of his hand. "No, nothing's broken. Some bitch whacked me in the side with a steel pipe, but there isn't a break. It'd hurt a hell of a lot worse if there was a break."

Kurt looked at the heavy bruising surrounding Blaine's side with a worried sigh, but Blaine didn't say anymore.

"Can you help me up?"

Kurt nodded, and let Blaine throw his arm around him once again. Blaine leaned weakly against the sink and breathed out a sigh of relief as he let his hands run under the cool tap, letting the water trickle over his swollen knuckles.

Kurt watched him for a few minutes, still wincing as his eyes caught on the painful looking marks on Blaine's body, and the few cuts on his face.

* * *

><p>As Blaine reached to turn the water off, he caught a glimpse of Kurt looking at him from the corner of his eye.<p>

His mouth hanging open slightly, his blue eyes opened wide in fear. There was a part of Blaine that didn't want Kurt to see him like this—so vulnerable, and beat up. But also, sort of glad that it was _Kurt _who'd found him, and not anyone else. Blaine didn't know if he could deal with anyone else's mocking right now after the shitty day he'd had.

Blaine leaned down lower against the counter again, and slowly turned back to face Kurt.

Blaine looked up at him, his eyes twinged with exhaustion. "Thanks…for helping me."

If was almost like Kurt could see the struggle it was taking Blaine to utter out his gratitude, his eyes filling with what Blaine assumed was pity.

"Any other fucker in this shithole would have jumped at the opportunity to kick me while I'm down. So…yeah, thanks for…_not_ doing that." Blaine shifted his eyes away awkwardly and turned the tap back on, letting the cool water run over his sore hands once again.

Kurt nodded, "You're welcome, Blaine."

Blaine shook his head, "You _really _don't know how much you could've gotten for turning me in. The Warden's a bitch like that. She wants to turn us all against each other."

Kurt chuckled lightly. "I don't think she's as bad as you all make her out to be." Kurt sighed and turned his gaze back to Blaine, "How about we just say you owe me one?"

The two pairs of eyes met for a second, bright blue meeting fiery hazel.

"Yeah, I owe you one, Hummel." Blaine smiled slightly, the corners of his mouth barely lifting up.

But almost as soon as it had appeared, the smile vanished and Blaine peeled his eyes away from Kurt's, and attempted to stand, but once again felt the intense, throbbing pain shoot through him from the sudden shift in weight, and leaned back over the counter in exhaustion.

Fuck. It'd been a shitty day, Blaine thought to himself—for more reasons than one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warnings: Language and references to violence**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee (:**

* * *

><p><strong>Risk it All<strong>

**Chapter 4**

Blaine decided to skip class on Thursday and Friday while he recovered, seeing as he was in a shit mood, and unable to walk around much anyways with his bruised side. Kurt urged him to visit the medical wing—Dalton Academy's was _enormous, _and Kurt figured it had to be since it catered to almost every sort of injury imaginable—_and_ the fact that the boys at this school were…_violent, _to say the least. But Blaine continued to blow it off, shaking his head and murmuring a quick "I'm fine" every time Kurt brought it up.

Despite Blaine's refusal to seek actually medical attention, Kurt still tried to help Blaine with whatever he could, like sneaking him some ice from the dining hall along with his meals to help with his swollen bruises, and helping blaine wobble around if he needed to go somewhere. The ice helped the smaller bruises fade a bit, but the hulking one at his side was still pretty serious and had turned a gross greenish purplish color. Kurt could tell that it was painful, but Blaine never complained-he even claimed that color meant it was healing. Kurt often found him trying to walk around the dorm in an attempt to regain his normal walking posture, teeth clenched together in pain. The sight alone made even Kurt wince.

Even so, there wasn't much Kurt _could _do since Blaine was refusing to get help—arguing that he couldn't exactly explain _how _he'd gotten the injuries in the first place without rising suspicion. He was already treading thin ice, and he didn't need another fight on his record. Kurt did his best regardless of the circumstances, even going as far as to collect Blaine's homework for him—but Blaine barely ever even gave the work a passing glance as it began piling up on his desk, and rolling his eyes each time Kurt dropped it off for him.

Though he and Kurt had been getting along much better, Blaine was still pretty tense. He rarely ever spoke unless he needed to, and remained painfully quiet for the remainder of the time. Kurt knew better than to attempt conversation with him at this point. Something was obviously on his mind he wasn't exactly eager to share, and Kurt really had no right to pry.

Regardless, Kurt decided that perhaps Blaine wasn't as scary as he'd once thought. Sure, he was still kind of intense with that ever-serious facial expression and dark, almost pained eyes—but never cruel or heartless as far as Kurt could tell.

Kurt still didn't know a _thing _about his roommate, but there were little things he picked up here and there that intrigued him, sparking his curiosity. He noticed some _probably _insignificant little quirks that may or may not have meant anything to anyone else, but to Kurt, they helped him paint a better picture of _who _exactly Blaine Anderson was as a person.

Kurt figured there were two sides to Blaine. There was a side that was cold and distant. And when he was like this, he was usually in a bad mood. His eyes were dark, slightly narrowed—almost frightening to look at, Kurt noticed. He acted polite when he was like this—to Kurt anyways—but Kurt made sure not say or do anything that could possibly trigger Blaine's short temper.

Then of course there was the ever-rare, lighter side of Blaine. It was the side that liked to tease, that liked to poke fun of Kurt. He was always smiling with that arrogant smirk Kurt had grown all too accustomed to. On rare occasions, if he got Kurt flustered enough, his smirk would break out into genuine laughter, and Kurt decided that _that—_that look—was his favorite. He liked how Blaine's eyes would squint together, and his lips would curve up into a grin. His hard features would melt away, and he'd become...almost like a completely new person.

Kurt got to know both sides, and slowly began learning how to adjust to his new roommate, and knowing what to anticipate when he needed to.

It could all be in his head, but Kurt was beginning to think Blaine was adjusting to him, too. Sometimes out of the blue, Blaine would just ask Kurt random questions. Nothing serious, just simply, often times even _silly _questions. He never really answered any about himself though, Kurt noticed. Usually just muttered some vague response, or no response at all, which Kurt found strange. And he definitely didn't talk about what had happened the night he'd come back to the dorm all cut up and bruised, or how he'd gotten into that situation in the first place-the curiosity still eating at Kurt.

Kurt figured he might _never _know, it didn't seem like Blaine was planning on telling him anytime soon. Kurt didn't know anything about _anything. _Hell, he didn't even know something as simple as what Blaine's hobbies were—besides the little things he noticed when they were alone in the dorm.

He picked up on a thing or two, just enough to paint a small vague picture of the other boy.

Kurt realized it wasn't _too _difficult to figure out a thing or two about his roommate, if he was just observant enough. And honestly, once you're living with someone, especially when the weekend rolled around and Kurt and Blaine were both stuck in the dorm together—Kurt by choice (lifting weight in the rec rooms, smoking in back alleys, and boxing in the gym never really appealed to Kurt. Also, the library was closed), and Blaine because he didn't have one (dorm arrest on weekends).

First off, _the hair._

For the entire time Kurt had been at Dalton Academy, he'd seen Blaine's hair slicked back with so much hair gel Kurt wondered how many _actual _bottles Blaine used up in single week. But after his incident Wednesday night, Blaine had stopped bothering with his hair gel—he was suffering enough just dragging himself to the bathroom to _shower_—so for the time being, he simply let his dark brown hair go au naturel.

Kurt's eyes widened the first time he saw it, jaw dropping at the sight of short curly locks falling down from Blaine's head. They looked so soft and fluffy—a distinct contrast from the sticky dark goop Blaine usually combed it back into. Kurt even got an urge to just reach over and just _touch _it at one point, but quickly turned away when he saw Blaine glowering at him, noticing him staring at his hair. Apparently someone was _sensitive _when it came to the fro.

The next thing Kurt noticed was _the tattoo._

Blaine had a small tattoo under his left upper arm, which was only visible if he wore a short sleeved shirt and just happened to be stretching or something. Kurt hadn't noticed it until he was helping Blaine the night he came back all bloodied up and Blaine had taken off his shirt, but every once in a while, Kurt would catch a glimpse of it again, and it would spark up Kurt's curiosity once again.

It had the numbers _**12.27.10 **_tattooed in simple black ink. Kurt assumed it had to be some sort of significant date, but he wasn't sure what. Maybe it was something cute, Kurt hoped. Like his grandmother's birthday, or something! Probably not. _  
><em>

The other thing was the reading. That was something anyone with eyes could pick up on. Blaine Anderson read _a lot. _And they were books even _Kurt_ found rather dull and uninteresting. While Kurt usually spent his evenings wrapped up in the newest edition of Vogue he had mailed to him, or various other fashion/entertainment magazines—Blaine read books by Nathaniel Hawthorne, short stories by Oscar Wilde, a number of works by Scott Fitzgerald, and authors Kurt had never even heard of of even remotely recognize.

Since the fight, Blaine spent all his spare time reading, lying silently at his bed, his eyes completely focused on the text before him. Kurt noticed he even kept a few stacks of books under his bed, along with the others he had on a small bookshelf near his desk, and the few littered on top of his desk. Of all things considered, Kurt hadn't expected Blaine to be such a _bookworm_—and an intellectual one at that.

* * *

><p>Sunday afternoon came around quickly. Blaine seemed to have improved over the last few days despite the lack of proper medical attention, and was now able to get around without too much pain. His bruise on his side had faded into a greenish yellowish color that Kurt still found unsettling when he saw Blaine icing it, but at least it wasn't getting any worse.<p>

Kurt was in the middle of a heated argument with the New Directions on an IM chat, watching as they fought over what songs they were going to perform for regionals. It seemed it was the entire glee club against Rachel—who had her heart set on singing another solo, while the others hummed in the background, claiming competitions should showcase _the most talented, _in order to guarantee a win. The idea obviously did not bode well with the other members, despite Rachel's (seemingly genuine) claim it was their only chance at winning, and that she was simply "doing it for the good of the club."

Kurt was about to make some remark about how they were all insane, when there was a soft knock at the door.

Kurt turned his attention to Blaine, who was already crossing the room, his hand pressing lightly to his side as he walked to answer the door.

Kurt quickly shut his laptop and turned to the see who'd come.

Blaine's friends David and Wes appeared in the doorway, and whispered something into Blaine's ear. He saw Blaine glance down both sides of the hallway before ushering the boys in, and leading them to his side of the room. Blaine's eyes were tired, but the intense flame of anger was sparked up once again as Wes whispered something into Blaine's ear that Kurt couldn't catch. Kurt had a feeling it just _had _to do something with the fight Blaine had gotten into last Wednesday.

Strangely enough, David and Wes didn't look too great either, Kurt noticed. It was the weekend, and they didn't have to be dressed in school uniforms, so neither of the pair was dressed in the stuffy thick layers of the Dalton Academy ensemble, and Kurt could clearly see that their faces bore scratches similar to Blaine's, and Wes had a particularly dark patch right beneath his left eye. David's left hand was even wrapped in some sort of makeshift gauze, which appeared to just be made out of a few strips of ripped cloth.

Their eyes darted to Kurt, who looked back at the trio with wide eyes. Wes murmured something, looking suspiciously at Kurt with cold eyes—sending chills down Kurt's spine, but Blaine shook his head and whispered something back, and the other boys averted their attention away.

Kurt tried to look busy doing something at his desk, but he was beginning to feel uncomfortable. The other boys spoke in hushed tones so Kurt still couldn't make out what they were saying, except for a few choppy phrases here and there.

"…No, one of Kevin's guys took it…yeah, Liam's….I don't know, but I'm getting it back…" Blaine was saying, his eyes filled with the sort of rage that made Kurt tremble.

"...It isn't over…we'll get them back…" David murmured his eyes falling to the ground.

Kurt saw Blaine flop over to his bed, too exhausted from standing up, and his two friends followed suit, hovering in front of him at the head of the bed.

Blaine stared down angrily, his eyes narrowed and he slowly shook his head. Wes handed Blaine a small piece of paper that Blaine barely regarded, glancing at it with annoyance. He unfolded it and Kurt could hear his growl from the other side of the room as he read was what on it.

"Fucking Bastards!" Blaine cried out, jumping from his bed so suddenly, even Wes and David looked at him in surprise.

Kurt started to feel a bit uncomfortable as silent tension filled the room. It was only a little over two hours till dinner, and Kurt decided to just slip out of the dorm and come back after Blaine and his buddies finished their _discussion. _He could probably hide away in in the east corridors or some empty courtyards until the dining hall opened.

Kurt was feeling uneasy just being in the presence of so much intense tension and felt like an intruder by even just remaining in the room. David and Wes watched Kurt as he quickly gathered a few things into his bag and swing it over his shoulder. He ducked out of the room and tried his best to avoid the dark, angry eyes that followed him out.

As Kurt crossed the doorway, and was about to pull the door shut, when he heard Blaine say something in a frighteningly quiet, low voice—the words alone shaking Kurt to his core, making his breath hitch and his heart freeze momentarily in his chest.

_"_I'm going to fucking kill him…_" _

Blaine's voice echoed over and over again in Kurt's head.

Kurt pulled the door shut, and leaned against it, as he attempted to gather himself. The words fell from Blaine's mouth with determination—no stutter, no hesitation, no mercy. Kurt didn't know who Blaine was talking about, but even so, the sheer intensity of the way Blaine had said it, frightened him. Kurt's face blanched, and he slid down the door, not knowing why his hands were trembling, as he crumbled to the floor.

Kurt just sat there, taking several moments for him to gain back enough composure to stand back up again.

With shaky legs, Kurt made his way down to an empty courtyard, two guards standing guard glancing at him as he walked by. He found an old bench and sunk down into it, still trapped in stunned silence. For the next two hours, Kurt's mind went numb, and he couldn't think about anything other than Blaine, as much as he wanted to avoid it_._

He thought about everything. He thought about the first time he'd seen Blaine. He thought about the dark hazel eyes burning into him the first moment they locked eyes. He thought of the first conversation he ever had with Blaine, and the last. He even thought about the first time he'd accidentally seen Blaine pull his shirt off in front of him, and how he might have stared too long to be considered appropriate. He thought about all the taunting their first class together, and Blaine's posse of misfit friends. He thought back to when Blaine had smirked at him for the first time with that devilish grin, and back to all those lazy afternoons Blaine spent playfully teasing him and asking him silly questions. He even thought to that day when Blaine had saved him from nearly getting his ass kicked in by Scarface the dining hall, and the angry fit he'd thrown right after he'd dragged Kurt back to the dorm.

Kurt swallowed.

_Do you know what kind of people you're messing with in here?_

Blaine's words rang in his ears. He could practically see Blaine's blazing hazel eyes piercing through him as he screamed, causing Kurt to wince.

_These people are arsonists, assaulters; some of them are even here for third degree manslaughter, okay?_

Kurt pulled his arms around his chest.

Kurt hadn't been here that long, but he'd started to feel _used to it _here. This was concerning him. He didn't know much about Blaine, hell, he barely knew _anything_ about him except that he had a tattoo on his arm and liked to read. The fact that Kurt was practically _living_ with a stranger, who showed no plans of ever letting Kurt get to know him, concerned Kurt immensely. Even so, the more Kurt thought about it, the more he realized he wasn't actually even frightened of Blaine—not in the slightest. And this concerned him most of all. Because it was almost like a part of him wanted to trust Blaine-even despite the voice screaming in his head that it was a _stupid_ idea, and he couldn't trust _anyone _at this godforsaken school.

Given everything he'd seen, heard, and experienced himself, Kurt wasn't scared of Blaine _at all_.

He'd heard Blaine just vow to _kill _someone—and irregardless of the actual validity of the statement-Kurt felt worried. And not really for the other person—but for Blaine. He worried that Blaine would get hurt again. He worried that he'd have to see Blaine come back all battered up again—maybe even get injured worse the next time around. He didn't know his roommate all that well, but Kurt was _sure _he never wanted to see that kind of pain in Blaine's eyes ever, _ever_ again.

Kurt didn't think he'd be able to stand it. If he'd be able to stand seeing Blaine like that again.

There was something wrong with him, Kurt thought to himself. There was something _seriously _wrong with him.

* * *

><p>Blaine stared up at his two friends with tired eyes.<p>

"Did The Warden question you about…" Blaine gestured to the cuts and bruises marking the other boys' arms, "you know…all this?"

David shook his head, "No, we've been avoiding her the last two days. But she might come after you if she finds out you been skipping class, though."

Blaine rolled his eyes, "I don't care, bitch can do what she wants. If it wasn't for her, everything would have been taken care of by now."

Wes and David exchanged anxious glances.

Blaine shook his head, ignoring the looks on their faces.

"Is J alright at least?" Blaine asked, his expression softening in concern, "I haven't heard from him yet."

Wes sighed and rubbed at the back of his sore neck, and nodded at his friend. "He's fine. He got a little roughed up but I watched his back, and I know it's not too bad. He shouldn't have gone, though. He could've gotten fuckin' killed, jesus."

Blaine's eyes narrowed, "I told him not to. I should kick his ass just for going in the first place."

Wes' eyes fell. "I'm assuming his bastard foster parents probably already did it for you, once they found out he even snuck out," he murmured.

Blaine clenched his jaw. "Dammit, Jamie," Blaine growled, "that fucking idiot."

"The kid couldn't have _not _come, though." David said softly, "You know how he is, and you know how much Liam was to him. They were brothers. Fuck it, if I was him, I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

Blaine shook his head absently. "But it was an ambush. They knew we weren't going to play by the rules. We should have figured neither were they. They never do."

"We can't do it again Blaine, if we get caught—_if_ _we get caught_…The Warden is going to get rid of us. I don't even _know _why she allowed _you _to stay around after what happened last December."

"Don't act like she did me any favors, keeping me here," Blaine snarled, "This place is a hellhole, and you know it. I'd rather be anywhere but here."

David squeezed his eyes shut, "Wes. You know we can't just let them _win_—not again. Not after all that's happened."

Blaine shot David a look of agreement.

Wes sighed, and finally nodded. "Fine, I'll try to get in contact with the rest of the guys on the outside. See how they're doing. The guards are tightening up around the side gates too, but I'll try my best. If we're going to do it again, we're going to have to do it right. It may be our last chance. We can't blow it again."

Blaine's eyes went dark. "I don't care what the fuck it takes. I'm taking Kevin down. That son of a bitch can rot in hell for all I care."

* * *

><p>Blaine sat alone for the remainder of the afternoon, hoping to clear his mind of everything he and the guys had talked about that afternoon. It was getting late, and night was beginning to settle in, bathing the dorm in a dim, gloomy darkness. It seemed no matter how he tried, Blaine couldn't ever seem to get his mind <em>off <em>what had gone down last Wednesday, no matter how hard he tried.

It was supposed to be his moment of redemption. It was supposed to be his time to finally get revenge on the assholes that'd turned his life into a living hell, the assholes who'd taken everything Blaine ever had, and sent it all crashing down at his feet.

Blaine groaned, and fell back into his pillows, willing himself to think about _anything _but this. It was painful enough, but to be reminded of his failure—_again_…it was almost too much to bear.

At that moment, the dorm room door clicked open, and Blaine saw Kurt's familiar figure hesitantly walk in, glancing around the dimly lit room.

"They're gone, Kurt. You don't have to worry," Blaine said with a sigh.

"I—I wasn't…I wasn't worried," Kurt stuttered, his face heating up.

Blaine rolled his eyes, "Right."

"I, um, I brought you dinner," Kurt said awkwardly, and Blaine turned to see Kurt balancing a paper plate and a cup of what was probably ice, in his hands.

Blaine felt the corners of his mouth curl up.

"You don't have to do that everyday, you know. I'm not fucking dying or anything. I think I can manage to get my own meals if I have to." A grin washed over Blaine's face as he said it.

Kurt blushed, "I um, I didn't know if you got your dinner privileges back or not, and I didn't see you in the dining hall so I figured that…you know…maybe you would get hungry. And I know your side is still hurting_-_so I brought more ice."

Blaine lifted an eyebrow in amusement as he glanced at Kurt, fidgeting where he stood.

"Yeah, my punishment's over. I've finally been granted my goddamn eating privileges again," Blaine said with sarcastic enthusiasm, and gestured Kurt over to him.

Kurt walked over, blushing furiously as he placed the food on the desk as usual, heat rising to his cheeks. It was almost cute, Blaine thought to himself.

"Thank you," Blaine said, sitting up right in his bed, trying to reach his food without straining his side. He nodded at the spot beside him, gesturing Kurt to sit down.

Kurt stared at him with wide eyes, as if not completely sure if he'd picked up the right signal.

Blaine chuckled. Seeing Kurt all ruffled up again was helping him relax, and he could almost feel the tension easing away.

Kurt continued to shift uneasily on his feet, wringing his fingers nervously.

"Are you going to sit down, or just stand there all night?" Blaine asked as he stabbed at his food, smirking at Kurt as he blushed right up into his scalp.

Kurt's eyes darted from the spot on the bed and back to Blaine's face. "I just—I um…"

Kurt sighed and lightly sat down on the springy bed, trying to sit as far away from the other boy as possible.

Blaine shook his head in amusement, picking out the vegetables from his food and piling them into a corner, and turned his focus back to the flustered boy who actually seemed to be inching _away _from him. Blaine laughed to himself at the irony. The last time he'd had a boy in his bed, things had gone down _a lot _differently.

Kurt refused to look at Blaine, focusing his attention on his hands that were folded awkwardly in his lap. His usually pale face was blushing bright red, and Blaine could see that it'd even spread all the way up to ears.

"What are you so uncomfortable for?" Blaine asked between mouthfuls of food.

Kurt chewed his lip nervously before turning to face Blaine. "I'm just—I'm just not used to being so…so close to someone…and them being okay about it."

Blaine choked, "What?" he sputtered, coughing a few times to catch his breath.

Kurt shrugged, and picked at the invisible lint on his pants.

Blaine stared at Kurt in disbelief. Was this why Kurt was so _nervous _around him all the time?

He remembered the sassy almost diva-eque boy who'd growled at him when he poked fun of him on his first day of school, and the heated argument Kurt had gotten himself into right after in the dining hall and nearly got his ass kicked in by Scarface. Seeing that side of Kurt, and seeing the stark contrast now, was shocking.

Blaine had thought Kurt was pretty cute, and kind of enduring when his inner diva showed. He figured other boys in the past probably have too. A pretty boy like Kurt _must _have caught quite a bit of attention. Right?

Kurt shifted awkwardly on the bed.

"I—I don't know. I'm just not…used to _boys_ wanting to be around me after they find out that I'm—that I'm…" Kurt trailed off, and he looked like he wanted to just get up and bolt out of the room.

Blaine cleared his throat, and looked over at Kurt. "You can say it—I'm pretty sure I already know."

Kurt's eyes widened in fear and he scrambled off the bed with remarkable speed. "…You what?"

Blaine shrugged and dug his fork back into his plate, and resumed eating. "That you're gay? Yeah, I know."

Kurt's face blanched. "But you—but you're…you're okay with…"

Blaine smiled and rolled his eyes. "Kurt, you're not the only guy in this damn school that likes cock. You put a couple hundred boys together, and some of them will end up _liking _cock. It's nothing to be all weird about. Calm the fuck down, and sit _down. _You keep bouncing on this bed and swear I'm going to drop this damn food you went to so much trouble to get."

Kurt blinked a couple times. He didn't know whether to be mortified or at ease now that he knew Blaine knew.

Kurt slid back to where he sat on the bed, still looking at Blaine with an air of bewilderment.

"You knew this whole time…and you didn't care?" Kurt whispered, his blue-green eyes locked on Blaine.

Blaine's smirk vanished, and he narrowed his eyes in confusion. Was Kurt really _not_ used to this?

"Why would I treat you any different Kurt? It's not like it's my ass you're after." Blaine said slowly, "I know you're not going to jump me in my sleep or anything. Why the hell should it matter to me, or anyone else if you like guys?" Blaine's expression was serious, but calm, looking at Kurt with a look of concern and disbelief.

Kurt felt like he was going to cry. "Well—it's too bad the rest of the world doesn't feel that way."

Blaine's eyes softened and he tossed his now empty paper plate back onto his desk. His eyebrows knitted together as he looked at Kurt. His light eyes were looking misty, and his face overwhelmed with emotion.

"The world is full of assholes, Kurt."

Kurt let out a shaky breath and focused his eyes back on his lap.

For a moment Blaine just stared at him. The room had fallen quiet, nothing but the sound of Kurt's shallow breathes, and the distant sound of sirens in the far off distance. Kurt's chest was trembling, and his bright blue eyes had fallen, his eyelashes fanning down against his cheek. He was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, apparently still refusing to meet Blaine's eyes.

"Why are you here, Kurt?" Blaine asked softly, after a few silent moments had passed.

Blaine had definitely hit a touchy subject with the whole sexuality thing-and though he really didn't have any right to ask-he had a feeling there was more to Kurt's story than he'd let on.

Kurt shook his head, and turned away. Fists clenched, lower lip trembling. He wasn't going to cry. Not here. Not now.

"There was a misunderstanding," Kurt whispered with a shaky voice.

Blaine leaned forward from and tilting his head down to meet Kurt's.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

Kurt smiled sadly, his lips quivering as he willed his tears back. "There was a boy, at my old school. He knew I was—that I was _gay. _The whole school knew, really. And—and I was the only one. The only one who was _out _anyways."

Blaine scooted forward, his eyes trained on Kurt, dark hazel meeting bright blue.

"I don't know why but that guy—he _hated _me. He was a football player, so he was a big guy. He used to toss me into dumpsters, and toss slushies in my face." Kurt shuddered as if he could almost feel the icy sharp pain he felt when the colorful drink met his face, "…and when he saw me in the halls, he'd push me into lockers and things like that."

Kurt's voice was trembling, and he could feel a lump forming in his throat as he revisted the memories he'd repressed deep, _deep _into the back of his mind.

"All of my friends got bullied. We were—we were kind of the losers of the school, I guess-but I got it the worst. The boy focused all his energy, all his—his _hate, _on me. And it was awful. His name was Karofsky. David Karofsky."

Blaine swallowed, and his eyes flicked in anger. He had a sudden urge to punch whoever this Karofsky guy was, and he didn't even know him.

Kurt continued, his sad eyes drifting down to focus on the threads of Blaine's blanket, picking at them absently.

"But I got tired of it. It'd gone on too long. I had bruises on my back that would never heal because new ones kept forming over them every time he shoved me into a locker. He called me names like _fairy, _or _homo, _or _faggot._" Kurt took a shaky breath. He could feel Blaine's eyes on him, but just couldn't find himself able to meet them just yet. "I tried to tell someone, but no one would believe me. Teachers did whatever they could but…it was no use. He'd say it was an "accident" and that he "tripped" and pushed me into the lockers. No one believed me. It was my word against his.

Blaine's hands clenched into fists, but he didn't interrupt. It looked like Kurt was struggling enough just trying get the story out as it is, he'd wait.

"One day," Kurt went on, "I was walking to class and I heard him come up behind me. I was standing at the top of the stairs, and I was trying to get down them as fast as I could. There wasn't anyone there, and he always pushed me around more viciously if there was no one there to see." Kurt blinked as the vivid memory flooded back into his mind, causing a shiver to pass down his spine. "I felt his hands on my shoulders as he came up behind me, and I froze. He—he leaned over and whispered some remark in my ear about me and my fairy dust blocking his way, and was about to shove me against the wall so he could pass, but—but something just snapped in me."

Kurt paused and squeezed his eyes shut for a second. He hadn't thought about that day in such a long time, and re-living it now—it was almost too much to bear.

Blaine cleared his throat, noting the distress on Kurt's face. "Kurt you don't have to—"

Kurt opened his eyes, and shook his head, cutting Blaine off. "No, it's fine."

Kurt's eyes were rimmed red and tired from holding back the tears he refused to shed.

"Anyways, something just _happened, _and I felt _so _overwhelmingly angry. I hated him. I hated him for putting me through all of it. I hated him for hurting me, for hurting my friends. I hated him for making me dread going to school every day. I just—I'd had enough."

Kurt's eyes sparked with a looked of angry intensity, and he lifted his head high. "I pushed him."

Blaine's mouth fell open.

"I pushed him. I pushed him so hard he fell down two flights of stairs. He shattered two ribs, broke one arm, and fractured both ankles." Kurt's eyes were now narrowed, and his voice was stronger. "I fought back. For the first time in my life, I fought back."

Blaine felt a knot in his stomach as he got a painful feeling he knew what Kurt was about to say next.

"His parents got mad though, and they wanted to sue. I had to go to court. And again, no one listened when I told them the damage _he'd_ done to me, for over _a year_. No one listened when I told them that _he_ was the one who was physically, _emotionally _torturing me," Kurt sighed, "They just didn't listen_."_

Kurt finally found the courage to tilt his head up and look Blaine in the eyes.

"And I got sent to reform school," Kurt shrugged coldly, an angry look washing over his face, "...and here I am." Kurt's voice was so dark and bitter, Blaine could hardly believe it'd actually come out of _Kurt's _mouth.

Blaine dragged a hand down his face as he processed the information.

"Wow." Blaine said, blinking a few times as it all sunk in.

"Yeah." Kurt replied, resting his hands on his lap, and turning away awkwardly.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Kurt." Blaine said, leaning down and making sure Kurt caught his eyes. "But, just because one fucking dickhead—who was probably a closeted cocksucker from the sound of it—decided he was going to fuck with you, doesn't mean you're any less of a person. He is an ignorant dumbass, and probably deserved worse than a couple of cracked bones and bruise here and there. _You _make who you are in this world, not anybody else, so don't let assholes like him get to you."

Kurt is a bit startled at the force Blaine had said that last part, his hazel eyes looking at him with serious intensity. Kurt smiled softly, and let his eyes fall to his lap again.

"Thank you," he whispered, "…for listening."

* * *

><p>Kurt stood up quickly, still overwhelmed by everything and glanced back at Blaine. Blaine nodded in silent understanding and let Kurt go, watching as he gathered his bathroom things, and slip out of the room for his shower.<p>

Blaine was sure caught Kurt rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand as the door swung shut behind him, but Blaine just let him go. He needed his own time after all that.

Blaine could tell Kurt was a little bit weighed down by all of it and was probably still embarrassed about sharing this secret to someone he'd only known for a few weeks.

Blaine could sort of relate to the feeling.

Blaine lay back down onto his bed, letting his head fall back against the pillows, and rested his folded hands over his chest.

Blaine shuddered at how much that conversation had hit home. It hadn't been that long since he was at the other side of this exact dorm and someone else was giving him almost the same exact speech.

Blaine swallowed as he remembered how scared he was when he first came here to Dalton—he'd done _much _worse than Kurt had to get himself in here—but he was just as frightened and vulnerable as Kurt then—possibly more.

_You make who you are in this world, not anybody else, so don't let some asshole fuck with your head._

Blaine felt a lump form in his throat as the memory took him, the familiar voice echoing almost the same words that he'd just said to Kurt.

Kurt wasn't the only one battling his past demons, Blaine thought with a sigh.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Alright, I understand there are some holes in the story so far. The stuff about the fight and Liam and all that will get explained later, and for the time being, Kurt doesn't know Blaine is gay. He will soon enough, but this story is going to be about 15 parts or so…so things don't speed up till later. I enjoy nice build ups (: Also, I know I made Karofsky out to be this awful dude, when in canon, he's actually sort of shaped up…but this is an AU, <strong>_**fanfiction…**_**so just um...take it with a grain of salt.**

**I hope you enjoyed it! ^.^**


	5. Chapter 5

**Warnings: Language and references to violence and sex.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own glee! (:**

* * *

><p><strong>Risk It All<strong>

**Chapter 5**

Friday evening came around quickly, marking almost three weeks since Kurt first came to Dalton Academy-though it felt like it'd been much longer.

Kurt glanced over to Blaine, peering over at the other boy as he packed his nightly facial routine products into an overnight bag, gently packing each bottle into a small pouch before placing with his other belongings in the duffle-bag.

Blaine lounged lazily on his bed, as he did every evening, eyes focused on some book open in his lap. Blaine hadn't moved an inch all morning, but judging from the distant expression on his face, Kurt figured Blaine had his mind elsewhere that morning—well that and the fact that Blaine hadn't so much as turned a page in the last hour.

Kurt walked over to his dresser to grab a few more things to add to his bag. Once satisfied, Kurt zipped it up, and placed it by the other one at the door. He sighed in content, feeling genuinely excited for the first time since he'd arrived at Dalton.

He heard Blaine snicker from his side of the room. Kurt sighed and turned around to see his roommate looking at him with a bemused grin, still resting on his bed, one leg crossed over the other in nonchalance, his hands now folded casually behind his head where he was leaning against the headboard. His distant look had faded away and his unread book was left abandoned on his desk.

"You're going home for a _weekend…_why do you need to bring so much shit with you?" Blaine asked, gesturing to the two bags Kurt had placed by the door, "You don't have clothes and a toothbrush at your house?"

Kurt felt his cheeks flush. "I just—there's some clothes that won't fit in my wardrobe that I'm taking home...besides, I don't really have an opportunity to wear most of them anyways_._" Kurt looked over at his bags,"The other stuff is just a few essentials I always take with me."

"Underwear and a couple of condoms are essentials. Not a bunch of face creams and sequined tee-shirts—not that I'm judging," Blaine said, grinning at Kurt as he swung his legs over to hang over the edge of his bed, reaching for a bottle of water on his desk.

Kurt huffed and turned around, pretending to check his phone for something. Despite their talk last week, Blaine had still pretty much regressed back to his old self again by morning. Things weren't usually as tense as they once were, but things weren't exactly bright and shiny either. Kurt noticed that Blaine still fell back into his bad moods, where any little thing seemed to set him off, but he did spend a little less time drowning in his own inner turmoil, and a little more time having actual conversations and being somewhat social. And since that night, Kurt noticed that though Blaine still liked to tease him, the teasing did become less intrusive and inappropriate. Kurt also noticed Blaine stayed away from more _sensitive_ topics since their talk—well...sort of.

"—Fuck!" Blaine cried out suddenly, in-between coughs.

Kurt's breath hitched when he turned around to see what had happened, his cheeks immediately flushing with color.

Blaine had choked on his water and proceeded to spill a good amount of it onto himself—water now dripping down his chin and onto his navy Dalton tee-shirt.

Kurt swallowed nervously, and tried to distract himself with his phone again, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away as Blaine pulled the shirt off over his head, and tossed the soaked shirt onto his own messy dresser in irritation. Blaine strode over to his wardrobe, pushing aside navy blazers and white shirts to look for another tee-shirt to pull on.

Kurt quickly turned his attention back to his cell phone, his breathing a little heavier. Having that talk with Blaine last week was—well, it was _nice._ Blaine knew things about him that Kurt felt he didn't have to hide anymore, and it made him feel a lot less _on edge_ all the time. But even so, it didn't mean Kurt didn't still get a little flustered every time Blaine changed in front of him. It wasn't something he was ever used to-even in the locker rooms at Mckinley he changed in the bathrooms to avoid the taunting of the other boys.

And as much as he didn't want to admit it, he couldn't really deny the fact that Blaine rather..._well built._ Kurt had accidentally caught himself on more than one occasion over the last week alone, just staring like an idiot every time Blaine changed in front of him, looking right at his roommate's toned torso and slightly outlined abs. The subtle way his uniform slacks hung off his hips, exposing the plunging v-shape of his lower pelvis—

Just then his phone vibrated, jolting Kurt out of his inappropriate thoughts and back to reality. He glanced down at the screen, feeling heat rising to his cheeks in embarrassment.

A new text message.

_Be there in 15. Burt said you can come out front soon. –Finn_

Kurt had had a pretty smooth first three weeks at Dalton Academy, and since he didn't get into any trouble—except for a small warning for skipping classes on the first day—Kurt was allowed to go home for the weekend, and he couldn't be more thrilled.

Blaine seemed to have found a shirt, and was shrugging it on, glancing over at Kurt as he did, hazel eyes dragging down Kurt's body, and raking his fingers through his slicked back hair, that ever-present smirk forming on his lips. Kurt looked away quickly, still blushing furiously, and shifting his feet as stared awkwardly at the ground.

"So—so are you going home?" Kurt stammered, breaking the silence, "You're you know…always _here_ on the weekends…" Kurt said sheepishly, trying to look anywhere but at Blaine's chest, clearly outlined in the new tight tee-shirt.

Blaine laughed, "What part of _all my privileges being taken from me_ did you not get? If I had to go a couple days without fucking _dinner, _you honestly think The Warden let me out on _weekends? _I don't even think i'm technically allowed out of this dorm on weekends, aside from meals."

Kurt flushed with embarrassment. He really just wanted to make light conversation to distract himself.

"Oh right," he replied quickly, "I—I'm sorry, I forgot."

Blaine chuckled. "Don't worry," he replied, "In about—what?—32 more weeks? Yes that sounds right. I've gotten 32 weeks on-campus-suspension left in my debt, and then I'll be able to go and frolic in the daisies like a free man."

Kurt knitted his eyebrows together, "How long has it been since you've been outside of Dalton?"

Blaine tilted his head, and paused for a moment in thought.

"Hmmm…Thursday I believe?"

Kurt shot him a confused look.

Blaine smirked again, "Come on, Kurt. Just because I'm not _allowed _to leave, doesn't mean I don't _leave _anyways. A guy needs to get a good fuck and a pack of smokes every now and again. Besides, this place isn't that hard to break out of. Breaking back in though—that's tricky. Ironic though, isn't it?"

Kurt blushed and quickly leaned down to fiddle with the zipper on one of his overnight bags.

Blaine folded his arms across his chest, giving Kurt an amused look as the other boy gathered up his ridiculous amount of luggage and struggled out the door.

Kurt turned back to Blaine one last time, smiling awkwardly.

"I'll see you Sunday, Blaine."

Blaine nodded, smirking as he sarcastically waved back.

Kurt rolled his eyes at him and hauled his stuff out of the room, and softly closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>The sharp wailing sound of dinner bells ringing shook Blaine out of his book that evening, and he instinctively glanced over the the other side of the room.<p>

Blaine let out a small breath when he realized, of course, that that other side was empty, and that his roommate had indeed left for the weekend.

He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim room, the only light coming from the small reading lamp on his desk. Blaine sat up, bookmarking his book and tossing it gently onto his desk.

He'd almost forgotten what it was like to be alone in the room for so long. Though he'd never noticed it before, the room was shockingly quiet without the sounds of Kurt's fingers tapping away at his computer, or humming along to some unfamiliar song. It all suddenly just felt so empty without Kurt there, and Blaine was suddenly reminded of the endless weeks he'd spent alone in this room before Kurt had come along. He shuddered as the painful memories flooded his mind—memories of shameless sobbing as he laid, crumpled to the floor, leaning against the foot of his bed. Memories of angrily pounding on the walls until his fists were red and raw, and his eyes burned from tears. He remembered the silent nights he spent staring at the other side of the room, wishing he'd done something, wishing he could have changed what happened—and hating himself for everything he'd done, and everything he'd lost.

Blaine narrowed his eyes, feeling his anger bubbling to the surface. He took a deep, shaky breath, clenching his fists together and squeezing his eyes shut. There was no point in him getting all upset up about it right now, he thought to himself. Blaine knew better than to go back and relive everything—it'd taken him a long time to get past it all, and he sure as hell wasn't going back to that place again.

No, because now Blaine had a plan.

He was _getting even_, and this time for good.

In all honesty, Blaine knew that if he had _any_ rational thought left in his brain, it probably tell him that he was being stupid, and that the best thing to do would be to move on. He knew how dangerous all this was. He knew how much danger he was putting David, Wes, Jamie, and all the other guys in. But this was never something he could just let go, nothing he could ever forget. He was sure the others boys felt the same way, or they would have abandoned him like so many others did after Liam left.

There was no way he could sit around while Kevin was still out there, still stalking the city with his band of assholes.

Blaine stood up and wandered around the room, feeling haunted by memories that never seemed to disappear.

Everything in Blaine's life had changed in a matter of weeks, and now Blaine was left here, alone, feeling exactly like he'd felt not even a month ago. It was agonizing to still be here, alone, and just as powerless as he was at the start. Blaine swallowed, and ran his fingers shakily through his hair.

Even with the distant buzz of the other boys making their way down to the dining hall for dinner, Blaine still felt trapped in the inescapable, deafening silence of the dorm room.

In that moment, Blaine just wished everything would go away. He wished he wasn't so alone, he wished for everything to be the way it was just a few months ago, and he wished he could still remember what it was like to just simply be _happy_ again.

And as much as he didn't want to admit it, Blaine wished that Kurt hadn't left. Because even if he was a bit annoying with his humming, and his keyboard clicking, and need to fill every prolonged silence with awkward conversation, at least he was _there. _

He was also the first person to really make Blaine smile, really genuinely smile, in god knows how long.

Blaine walked over to Kurt's side of the room, and absently glanced at the few pictures Kurt had resting on his dresser, and the bunch wallpapering the bulletin board above his desk.

Blaine smiled despite himself as he looked at the photos, stopping to look more closely at a photo of a guy with a Mohawk hugging Kurt tightly around the neck as Kurt rolled his eyes—Blaine also furrowed his eyebrows as he noted a lost looking blonde girl standing in the background, obviously intended to be included in the photo, but was looking in the wrong direction.

As Blaine looked past the few photos of was had to be Kurt's parents, and predominantly his father, it seemed that Kurt was always surrounded by the same group of people.

Blaine picked up a photo that was resting at the top of the dresser for a closer look.

In the photo, Kurt had a frighteningly tall boy's arms slung around him as he laughed, and his own arms were linked with a smiling dark-skinned girl wearing bright, bold colors-Blaine had never seen Kurt laugh like that, with eyes squeezed shut and his nose crinkled like that. A short brunette girl was smiling broadly at the camera, leaning over a boy in a wheelchair, who had his head in a headlock by the same tan boy with the Mohawk in the other picture. An Oriental looking couple were kissing each other in the back beside a group of very pretty looking girls in cheerleading uniforms (the confused blonde was looking in the right direction this time), and a blonde guy with an unusually large mouth-that Blaine admitted seemed to work pretty for him.

Whatever the fuck a _Glee Club_ was, was written at the top of the photo frame in bedazzled glittery colors, a small note with _Don't forget us! We love you! _scribbled in sharpie at bottom of the photo.

Blaine shook his head and smiled.

As Blaine was placing the photo back onto the dresser, there was sudden pounding at the door, and Blaine could hear David's muffled voice on the other side.

_"Blaine, you getting dinner or what?"_

Blaine sighed, glancing around the empty room one last time before answering.

"Uh, yeah!" he yelled back, "I'll be right there!"

* * *

><p>Kurt awoke Saturday morning to hushed whispers and soft giggles.<p>

"shh, shhh, guys!" a familair voice hissed, "He's waking up, shut up!"

Kurt didn't have to open his eyes to know that the entire New Directions glee club was probably standing over him and staring right about now. He'd expected something of the sort-he'd overheard Finn loudly whispering about it last night on the phone.

"Hey guys," Kurt murmured sleepily, rubbing at his eyes, "I missed you."

The voices halted all at once.

"How did he know it was us? We were so quiet!" muttered Rachel's disappointed voice.

"Oh my god, Kurt got superpowers while he was in jail…" Brittany's bubbly voice remarked, "Same thing happened Lord Tubbington too when he was arrested for drug possession last summer...now he can read minds..."

"Britt, honey, how many times do I have to tell you? Kurt didn't go to jail." Santana replied.

"Oh, he's opening his eyes!" Tina's sweet voice sang with excitement.

"Kurt? Hey, it's us!" Mercedes said, matching Tina's excitement.

Kurt blinked open his eyes slowly, and saw a bunch of blurry faces hovering in front of him, crowded around his bed, smiling down at him.

"Sorry dude, they wanted to surprise you." Finn said sheepishly grinning down at him, "I told them you weren't exactly a morning person, but Rachel insisted."

Kurt smiled a little bit and yawned as he pulled himself up, flattening the hair sticking up at the back of his head.

"You guys are all insane" Kurt murmured with a smile, "...I really missed you guys."

Suddenly the door burst open, catching everyone's attention.

"Come on! Let's goooo!" Puck said, popping his head into the room, balancing a plate of pancakes in his hand, "Finn's mom made us all breakfast!"

Kurt yawned, grinning as everyone pulled at his arms, trying to get him up out of the bed.

"Alright, alright! I'm up!" Kurt groaned, trying to hide his laughter, and followed his friends downstairs for breakfast.

* * *

><p>Blaine walked into the dining hall that morning with a pounding headache and tired eyes. He didn't exactly sleep well last night. He scanned the room and spotted David and Wes sitting at their usual table, both hunched over, whispering silently-Blaine assumed Wes had somehow finally gotten word of what the hell was going on outside of the guarded Dalton walls.<p>

"Blaine!" Wes said with a start when Blaine collapsed into a chair beside him, eyeing the other too with tired eyes.

"Just tell me," Blaine muttered dryly, "I'm not in the mood for that whole beating around the bush bullshit you do. Just tell me what you found out."

Wes swallowed, and glanced over to David who passed him a nervous look but nodded anyways.

"Blaine, I talked to Mickey this morning." Wes murmured.

Blaine nodded. He knew Mickey. Mickey was sort of the double agent they had in with Kevin's group. He attended Dalton as well, and the trio often asked him for info on what was going on with Kevin and the rest of his crew. Blaine didn't entirely trust him, but he was all they got.

"…And?" Blaine was looking irritated.

"He says Kevin got hurt pretty bad, and says that you…you basically signed your own death warrant that night. He's fucking _pissed."_ Wes looked at Blaine nervously,_ "_You're his new target."

Blaine burst out laughing, an almost maniacal gleam in his eyes. "Yeah, I kind of figured."

David stared at him with wide eyes. "Blaine. You do realize the last person Kevin vowed to kill was…it was _Liam."_

Blaine's jaw clenched, "Yeah, well. I guess i'll have to kill him first?"

Wes sighed, "Blaine, you know I want the asshole gone as bad as you do-and i'll have your back no matter what-but you _know _no one's actually gotten close to hurting Kevin that bad since—ever. You were lucky this time, you caught him off guard. There's no way in hell Kevin's going to let that happen again. We barely got away as it is..."

Blaine sighed and grabbed a strip of bacon from David's plate. "Look, if you guys don't want to—"

"Shut the _fuck _up." David cut off. "Liam was our friend too. He was a friend to _all_ of us, alright? You don't get to tell us what the hell we can or can't do—even if you _are_ just trying to watch out for us." Blaine watched David's face fall serious, "We're in too deep, and I'm not walking away until we deal with this. I know things were different with you and Liam or whatever, but he meant a lot to us too. And you're a way bigger dumbass than I thought if you think we're just gonna sit around while you go out looking for Kevin without us," David finished, the heat rising in his voice.

Blaine stared at David, an eyebrow raised in surprise at his sudden outburst.

"Yeah, alright" Blaine said slowly, seeing the fire in David's eyes die down a little bit, "But I'm not lying when I say I don't know what the fuck we're going to do now…"

"…I do," Wes said quietly, pushing his food back and forth on his plate, "it's risky though."

Blaine and David looked at the other boy, "Well?" they asked together.

Wes looked up at them, his expression unreadable.

"You two won't like it…" he said softly.

"Try us," Blaine challenged, leaning forward, his dark hazel eyes meeting worried brown ones.

* * *

><p>"So tell me, you getting like tons of action at this Dalton place?" Puck asked with a mouthful of food, "I figured, you know, it's a place full of dudes, and you're into dudes—you bone any?"<p>

Kurt blushed deep scarlet and dropped his fork, letting it clink loudly as it fell against the porcelain plate.

It'd been nice, spending the morning at the Hummel-Hudson residence. Kurt and the entire New Directions pack were scattered around the living room, a few even scrawled on the floor as they ate the food Carole had prepared for the bunch. It'd been so long since Kurt had had a _real _home cooked meal that everything went out the window. Calories or not, if it was edible, he was eating it. He'd already eaten 5 pancakes, an omelet, and was halfway through a plate piled high with bacon, eggs and toast.

"Puck!" Quinn exclaimed, hitting him lightly on the arm, "Don't ask him that!"

Kurt shook his head and rolled his eyes playfully at the boy with the Mohawk, "No, trust me…the only boy who showed _any_ interest in me, wanted to punch me in the face…"

Kurt laughed at his friends' shocked and concerned faces. Clearly it was too soon.

"Don't worry, I'm fine." Kurt reassured them, "I didn't push him down some stairs or anything. I just need to learn how to shut my damn mouth…and not wear anything with sequins."

"What about your roommate Blaine? You talk about him a lot," Mercedes tried, quickly changing the topic, "Do you like him?"

Kurt choked on a bit of bacon, "Mercedes!"

"He's cute." Rachel jumped in, "Me and Mercedes saw him walking around shirtless the other day when we were video chatting with Kurt." Rachel batted her long eyelashes at Kurt, sending him a teasing smile.

"Wait, your roommate walks around shirtless?" Sam asked, shooting Kurt a look.

"—and you watched him?" Finn added, glancing at Rachel.

Kurt blushed again, "It's—it's not like that. I don't even know if he's gay. Just—he's really intense. I guess we're sort of friends? I don't even know. He's just my roommate."

"Sounds like _someone's _got a little crush…" Santana hummed, as she waved her fork at Kurt.

"I do not!" Kurt shot back quickly, feeling himself getting flustered.

"Come _on _Kurt, everybody likes a bad boy, it's sexy!" Tina quipped.

"—and since when did you like bad boys?" Mike Chang asked, turning to his girlfriend with a worried look on his face.

"Guys! I don't have a crush on him!" Kurt exclaimed with a weary expression.

"But you're blushing Kurt," Brittany observed, "Just like in all the cartoons. i'm pretty sure it means you love him."

Kurt wished the floor would just swallow him up right about now.

"Ooooh, our boy Kurt has a badass boyfriend!" Artie added, nudging Puck as they laughed.

Kurt muttered something under his breath as he picked up his plate and headed off to the kitchen to get some more toast, groaning as the rest of the group cat called after him.

This weekend was going to go _swell._

* * *

><p>Saturday afternoon rolled around slowly for Blaine.<p>

He'd spent the morning discussing and perfecting a plan _so _risky and _so _dangerous, that Blaine could barely figure out how the hell they were going to be able to pull off.

Even if everything went accordingly, it would _still _be fucking hard to get away with. He didn't even dare think about the consequences that would come about if something were to go wrong.

Blaine had to give Wes props for mastering such an elaborate plan, but sometimes things just sounded better as an _idea_. The fact that they'd agreed to actually go through with it hadn't quite sunk into Blaine's mind yet. He leaned his head back against the headboard, still going over every step of their scheme, making sure he knew it inside and out.

He had to memorize it. Memorize every move, every step, every and any possible outcomes. He couldn't afford to fuck it up, not again.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and Blaine groaned.

Maybe if he just ignored it, whoever it was would just go away.

After a few silent moments, the knocking resumed once again.

"_Blaine? It's Ms. Harvey," _a voice called through the door,_ "I need to speak with you."_

Blaine narrowed his eyes…what the hell was she doing here?

"_Blaine? Please open the door."_ The principal continued tapping lightly against the dorm room door.

Blaine's hazel eyes stared daggers at the door, willing the unwelcomed guest on the other side to just _leave him alone_. With everything on his mind, he wasn't exactly in the mood to have a _chat _with The Warden. Not that he ever wanted to talk to her. But right now, he just wanted-_needed-_some peace and quiet to just _think._

"_Mr. Anderson? Open the door. I know you're in there."_

The Warden's stern voice was getting impatient and Blaine could practically hear her tapping her foot right outside the door.

Blaine rolled his eyes and ignored her, his mind trying to remember what he'd been thinking about before the interruption.

"_Mr. Anderson! Don't make me go get my master set of keys. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Either way, we are going to talk. I have some concerns I must bring up with you."_

Blaine dragged a hand down his face and eyed the door angrily. The woman wasn't lying when she said she'd get the master keys. He'd learned that the hard way.

Blaine let a smirk wash over his face when he remembered the first time The Warden had tried to get into his room sophomore year after he and a couple friends poured a few dozen boxes of Jell-O powder into the pool—why the school even _had _a fucking pool was beyond Blaine.

Blaine shook his head in amusement. He'd had a frisky little freshman in the middle of sucking him off when she'd decided to barge in.

Blaine let out a small chuckle as he remembered the way her face had paled, her eyes widening in shock and then melting into absolute _rage._

It was probably _that, _that began Blaine's seemingly never-ending "no-going-off-campus-this-weekend" debt going. The Warden must have stripped him of over 72 weekends in total by now—not that Blaine cared much.

"_Blaine! Are you even listening to me? If you don't open this door by the time I count to 3—"_

Blaine snorted. _By the time she counted to three? _What is this? Fucking kindergarten? Blaine sat up and smirked mischievously at the door. He swung his legs over and climbed off his bed, and padded lazily over to the door.

"_One…"_

Blaine leaned casually against the wall, grinning mischievously.

"_Two…"_

Blaine held back his snickers.

"_Three!...Open this door now, Mr. Anderson!"_

Blaine pursed his lips together in an attempt to keep a straight face. After a moment of silent laughter, Blaine finally unlocked the door, letting it swing open, smacking the wall with a startling bang, and smirked in amusement at the surprised face of the Dalton Academy Principal. He leaned casually against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

"And what do I owe this…_pleasure, _Warden?" Blaine asked, his eyes narrowing together as a devilish smile creped onto his face.

Ms. Harvey glared at Blaine with hard grey eyes, her own arms crossed tightly across her chest as well.

Blaine rolled his eyes and walked back into the dorm, and planted himself on one of the chairs in the small sitting area in the center of the room looking up expectantly at the Principal.

Ms. Harvey shot Blaine an irritated look before stepping into the dorm and shutting the door softly behind her.

Blaine smiled at her wickedly, a hint of loathing beneath his deep hazel eyes.

"You sure do hold a grudge for _quite _a while, Mr. Anderson."

"Don't patronize me," Blaine snarled at her, "Just tell me what the hell you want from me and get out. I don't want to deal with this right now."

"Well, I was actually wondering if you were all right," Ms. Harvey said plainly and walked toward Blaine slowly, her eyes locked on Blaine's, matching his intense gaze.

"Bull. Shit." Blaine retorted, not daring to be the first of the two to break eye contact.

"I saw Wesley and David earlier this week—I could only imagine how badly _you_ got hurt." Ms. Harvey's voice didn't falter, but there was a hint of concern in her tone. "From the faded bruises on your face, I can tell I was right."

"Like you give a fuck what happens to me." Blaine spat, shaking his head and shot the Principal a look of disgust.

"Blaine, did you go looking for—" Ms. Harvey began.

"—Look! Quite acting like you care. You don't know what it's been like, okay? You have _no_ proof, you have _no_ evidence. I could have fucking gotten into a fight with Wes and David for all you know! Just leave me the hell alone!" Blaine could feel the heat rising to his chest as the familiar grey eyes stared back at him, never flinching from his sudden outburst.

"Blaine, we talked about this, this isn't going to solve anything. This won't bring back Liam, and this _won't_ change anything that happened that night."

Blaine jumped up from his chair and strode up to the taller woman, until they were face to face, only a few inches separating them.

"Don't. I don't _fucking _want to hear it anymore. You may think you did me some big favor keeping me here it this shithole, but you didn't. I hate this place. And I will _never _forgive you for what you did."

Ms. Harvey nodded, and looked at Blaine one last time before turning back towards the door, her expression unchanging.

"It wasn't your fault Blaine. Don't blame yourself. And if you have any serious injuries, please go to the hospital wing—I'll tell them not to question you if you don't want to talk."

Blaine gritted his teeth together and watched her toss him once last shrug before disappearing back out into the hallway, closing the door clicking shut behind her.

Blaine stared angrily at the spot where she'd just stood. She didn't know _anything. _She had no right to come in here and pretend like she cared. No _fucking_ right.

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut. He was taking matters into his own hands. He was going to make everything right. He was going to fix everything.

* * *

><p>Kurt stared out the car window as the road stretched past him, his father just crossing the city line from Lima into Westerville. Sunday evening quickly rolled around, meaning his weekend was over and he was going back to Dalton.<p>

"So I told Mercedes to let me in on that whole video chat thing—I'm curious about the naked dude you live with" Puck said from the backseat of the car.

"Naked dude?" Burt repeated, furrowing his eyebrows and glanced over to Kurt from the driver's seat.

"It's nothing dad," Kurt said quickly, "Puck's making stuff up."

There were some snickers from the back seat.

Puck had come along with Finn and Burt to drop Kurt off, saying something about his date blowing him off and wanting to go along anyways to check out the place.

Burt looked at Kurt with a concerned expression, "Should I be worried?"

"Dad, really," Kurt pleaded, hoping his dad would just drop the topic, "It's _nothing _I swear. Everyone just overreacts."

Burt settled for an uncertain look, and turned back to the road. Kurt could see Dalton Academy off in the distance, and he sighed at the though of having to endure yet another week before he'd get another opportunity to go home.

"Jesus—this place _does _look like jail! I would know…" Puck said from the back, poking Finn to get him to look at the building.

"I don't know…Kurt says it's all fancy on the inside, right?" Finn added, wincing slightly at the sight of the dreary grey building and the chain linked fences and uniformed guards surrounding it.

Kurt sighed. Yep, he was really back.

* * *

><p>Blaine snuck around to one of the front gates, narrowly avoiding a few guards that had been patrolling the area. Sunday evenings were when students got dropped off by their parents, so the guards were a little more lenient when they saw students wandering around the grounds—which most of the weekend boarders definitely took advantage of.<p>

Blaine crossed over to the gate where his usual guy stood on the other side.

Blaine nodded politely and slipped the guy in the black hoodie some cash.

The other boy nodded and slipped Blaine a couple packs of cigarettes through the fence.

Blaine turned the boxes over his head and nodded to the boy before turned back toward the building.

He caught the sullen faces of all the kids getting dropped off by their parents and smirked to himself. It must feel like getting dropped back off in hell every fucking weekend to those kids. Blaine rolled his eyes, it was pathetic.

Just then, he caught sight of a familiar figure in the distance, dressed in a bright blue shirt, and tight black jeans, his arms around a man Blaine suspected to be his father. _Kurt_.

Blaine watched as Kurt then turned around to embrace two other guys who'd come along to the drop off that Blaine recognized from Kurt's photos in the dorm.

The shockingly tall one patted Kurt's shoulder as they pulled apart from the hug, and awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck, letting the other boy with the Mohawk pull Kurt into a—what appeared to be a rather painfully tight hug.

Kurt watched them climb back into the car and waved to them until they disappeared out of the parking lot.

Blaine briefly wondered who those two other boys could be, but quickly shook the thought from his head and began walking back to the main building, wondering _why _he even cared who Kurt was with—it wasn't like it was any of his business, anyways. Frankly, he'd spent far too much time thinking about Kurt this weekend.

Blaine sighed.

He must be going insane.

As he approached the main building, Blaine caught Kurt's eye from a distance, and quickly ducked behind a wall, chuckling to himself as he saw Kurt craning his neck to see if it was _actually _him or not. He was cute, Blaine thought to himself, despite it all. He could just _see _Kurt standing on his tippy toes, leaning as far right as he could, squinting at the vaguely familiar figure in the distance.

Blaine smirked and ducked behind the building, taking a different route back up to the dorms.

Blaine snuck back into the dorm, and quickly threw himself onto the bed, picking up the book he'd left on his pillow, and propped it up in front of his face. His heart with still racing from the jog up, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He tried to catch his breath before Kurt caught up to him, smirking as he kept his eyes trained on the door. _Any moment now…_

Just as Blaine had expected, and not a minute later, Kurt walked through the door, startled when he caught sight of Blaine lying casually on the bed, reading.

"Weren't you just…? I _just _saw you—how did you get here so fast?" Kurt asked, dropping his bag by his bed and narrowed his eyes in confusion at the other boy.

"What are you talking about?" Blaine asked, focusing his eyes on the pages of his book, trying to hide his smirk.

"Oh." Kurt replied, "I guess it wasn't you. I could have sworn…never mind." Kurt shook his head and went to go sit down at his bed, unzipping his overnight back and started to unpack.

"Have a fun weekend?" Kurt asked nonchalantly, placing all his nightly facial routine stuff back onto his dresser.

"Pretty shitty, as usual," Blaine replied.

Kurt shrugged, "Sorry."

Blaine put his book down and turned to glance at Kurt. "Visit your boyfriend this weekend?"

Kurt burst out laughing as he arranged the stuff on his dresser, "Excuse me?"

Blaine pointed to some of the photo frames scattered in front of Kurt on the dresser. "I don't know, I saw a few of your pictures and I figured that maybe one of those guys was your—"

Kurt continued to laugh, "You thought that—you thought that…" Kurt tried to choke back his laughter but it was no use. He clutched at his stomach as the giggles took over him, his face turning red.

Blaine stared at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion. "…What?"

"No, trust me. I don't have a boyfriend—those guys are all just my friends." Kurt said as he gasped for air. "Really great friends, but just friends—one of them is actually my _step-brother!_"

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows, still smiling, but not quite believing this piece of information. Kurt was single? That hard to believe—he was too pretty not to be noticed by other guys. And he was...nice to be around, Blaine decided. Kurt had a way to make his worries fade away-even if it was just for a little while.

Kurt shook his head as his laughter slowly faded away. "Wow, I don't remember the last time I laughed that hard…"

Blaine chuckled lightly and turned back to his book.

It'd been a long time since he'd _heard _laughter like that too. Blaine smiled silently to himself. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was actually more than kind of relieved Kurt was back. He didn't think he could go on another day trapped in the dorm, alone with his thoughts and memories—it was too painful.

"Your brother the freakishly tall one? Or the one with the Mohawk?" Blaine asked, not peering away from his book.

"Tall one, but don't even get me _started _on that story." Kurt replied, "I get sick just thinking about it."

Blaine closed his book and gently pushed it aside, suddenly curious.

"Wait a minute—you _were _out there then? It _was _you! I knew it…" Kurt smiled to himself as if he'd figured out some great mystery or something.

"Tell me," Blaine said, ignoring Kurt's last comment, turning towards Kurt and grinning up at him, "Tell me your step-brother story."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, a little surprised at Blaine's sudden spark of interest.

"You'll make fun of me," Kurt said, hiding his smile.

"And?" Blaine replied, shrugging and ushering Kurt over to him.

After a few moments of consideration, Kurt sighed and walked over to Blaine.

"I cannot believe I'm telling you this…" Kurt said, grumbling as crossed the room and settled himself into Blaine's desk chair, swiveling it around to face Blaine. "This place must be making me go insane…"

Blaine looked into Kurt's bright blue-green eyes. Blinking a few times as he'd never noticed how frighteningly beautiful they were.

_Funny, I've been thinking that a lot lately too…_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Some action finally happens in the next chapter (: I just love a good build up…and angst…I'm a very angsty writer (…should probably keep that in mind folks ^.^)<strong>

**Review? It would mean the world to me (:**


	6. Chapter 6

**Warnings: Language and violence**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee! (:**

* * *

><p><strong>Risk It All<strong>

**Chapter 6**

"I just don't understand why any guy—_especially_ a guy_—_needs to have the same trench coat in 5 different shades of tan!" Blaine argued as he watched Kurt rifle through his wardrobe, pulling out several nearly identical overcoats.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and Kurt was busying himself organizing his closet. Though he'd already taken a majority of his clothes home a couple weeks ago, he still kept a few of his less _flamboyant _outfits-as some would say-here at the dorm to wear after school and on the rare weekend he decided to stay at Dalton instead of going home.

"It's not _tan, _it's beige." Kurt shot back, "Though they're similar colors, tan has a more brownish hue while—"

"Yeah, whatever—same difference." Blaine rolled his eyes and plopped down at Kurt's desk chair, and pulled out a pack of Marlboros and a small silver lighter from his pocket. He brought the cigarette up between his lips and leaned into his cupped hand as he flicked the lighter, the blue sparks failing to ignite.

Kurt sighed and marched over before the lighter gave, ripping the cigarette from Blaine's lips and snapped it in half.

"Stop smoking in here! Do you know how bad smoke is to the skin? Besides, it makes the whole dorm smell...I don't even know _why _the smoke detectors don't go off…"

Blaine huffed and slipped his lighter back into his pocket, making a mental note to get a new one soon since this one seemed to be out of juice. "Fine…but will you _quit_ breaking the damn things in half? They're not that easy to come by…and come on, every normal person knows to take the batteries out of the smoke detectors when you move in. You can just slip them back in when they do the inspections."

"Yeah, because _that's _safe…" Kurt said dryly, "Why do you smoke anyways?" he asked, as he turned to toss the cigarette remains in the waste basket, "Do you know how bad these are on your lungs and teeth and even your—?"

"Blah, blah, blah—whatever." Blaine smirked and swiveled around in the chair, and rested his feet on top of Kurt's desk.

Kurt rolled his eyes in irritation and marched back to fiddle with the clothes hanging in his wardrobe again.

He'd been at Dalton for a little over 4 weeks now, which meant it was now early February—and _also _that he needed to start figuring out his new spring wardrobe.

He and Blaine were getting a lot more acquainted, and were beginning to get to know each other a lot better than Kurt ever expected them to. Kurt wouldn't exactly call it friendship, more like a comfortable companionship for now. Blaine wasn't quite as brooding and intense as he'd first come off_, _but in times when things got tense, Kurt was often able to lighten the mood with some playful prodding. Something to get Blaine's mind off whatever it was he was thinking about, something to get him to smile. Sometimes all it took was Kurt flashing Blaine one of his old sequined shirts he'd found in the back of his wardrobe or one of the mid-thigh length shirts with the sparkling designs he'd forgotten to leave at home—and he would crack a smile.

But with this new found companionship, also came playful—_mostly _playful—arguing. Turns out they were both rather stubborn when it came to certain things, and arguments often sprung up as a result.

Kurt didn't even dare bring up the topic of redecorating again. Though Blaine had sort of been open to the idea at first—mostly just to humor Kurt—he'd quickly changed his mind when he saw a few of the ideas Kurt had. The image of White Tylosand sofas, Grundtal mirrors and matching drapes didn't exactly bode well with Blaine. They settled on a few decorative pillows and new curtains to replace the dreary torn grey ones that hung there before.

"—I'm _just _saying, a few tee-shirts and a couple pairs of jeans is all you really need. And if it's cold outside, throw on a jacket. No one needs…" Blaine gestured in the direction of Kurt's stuffed wardrobe, "All that!"

"And _I'm _saying—" Kurt shot back, "chronic smoking deprives your skin of oxygen and causes it to age faster. All it will give you are age spots and make your eyes sag down to your cheeks…"

Blaine smirked and got up from the chair and strode toward Kurt, bringing them face to face until there were just a few mere inches between them.

"Look at me Kurt," Blaine challenged smugly, raising an eyebrow, his intense hazel eyes locking with bright blue, "Tell me…how does my skin look _now_?"

Kurt's eyes widened at Blaine's proximity, "I—um…" Kurt stuttered as he backed up into his dresser.

"Do my eyes look like they're sagging into my cheekbones?" Blaine purred, stepping forward until Kurt was pinned against the dresser.

"Well, no—no…but—" Kurt mumbled, blushing and dropping his eyes to stare at the floor.

Blaine laughed and backed away, leaving a flustered Kurt to relax slightly, his cheeks still flushed with color and eyes darting around nervously. He swatted at Blaine in mock irritation and quickly turned back to his wardrobe again, pretending to pull at the clothes hanging inside.

"What? I just wanted to make sure my skin was okay!" Blaine said defensively, as he choked back laughter and collapsed on Kurt's bed, grinning as he saw a small smile barely creep onto Kurt's face—though he was trying desperately hard to scowl at him.

"Oh, _shut up, _Blaine…"

* * *

><p>"Alright, i'm gonna go down and eat," Blaine announced later that evening as he pulled himself up off his bed, dropping the novel he'd been reading onto his desk with a plop, and glancing over to the other side of the room at Kurt, "I'm fucking starving. You coming?"<p>

Kurt looked up from his magazine, blinking as he glanced over at the clock on his desk.

"Um..." Kurt began, still surprised at how quickly the afternoon as flown by.

"They're serving meatloaf!" Blaine said in mock enthusiasm as he grabbed a hoodie draped over a chair and shrugged it on, "Come on."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "No, I'm not hungry. I think i'm gonna go down to the library for a bit."

"The library?" Blaine repeated, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "I didn't know it was open this late."

"It's not," Kurt replied, moving from the chair in the center of the room and stretching, "But Mrs. Davenport is staying late doing inventory this week-lord knows why-and I figured I can go keep her company.

"What?" Kurt asked when Blaine continued to stare at him.

"Whatever, Hummel." Blaine decided, flashing Kurt one last smile before he turned to the door.

Kurt rolled his eyes and collected a few magazines from his desk, waving sarcastically at Blaine as he left, softly shutting the door behind him.

Without glee practice and all the usual New Directions drama he had to deal with at Mckinley, Kurt was starting to realize he had a lot more time to properly look through his fashion magazines and figure out which outfits he could manage to afford this spring on his budget.

Though he may be confined within these Dalton Academy walls, with their boring navy and red uniforms, Kurt will _never _turn his back on fashion—even if he could only wear it after class hours and on weekends.

After gathering up all his things, Kurt walked down the now empty hallways toward the library, his mind wandering back to that last Giorgio Armani fashion show he'd watched online last night. The spring line _obviously _wasn't the best this year, but there were definitely a few pieces that caught his eye. And the fact that he didn't have as much opportunity to wear normal clothes, Kurt figured he could use it to his advantage. If he was able to narrow down his wardrobe, he'd be able to spend a little more on the outfits he'd never been able to afford before.

Kurt smiled to himself and continued down the hall, already starting to do a few calculations in his head.

He was so busy trying to figure out if he could manage to buy _two _Alexander McQueen scarves this spring when he nearly walked right into another student.

"Oh! I'm sorry—" Kurt began, stepping aside and looking up to see who he'd run into.

Kurt's breath hitched when he looked up, his eyes catching on a long dark scar running down the other boy's face.

"Scarfa—I mean—Skylar…" Kurt murmured, looking up at the taller boy hesitantly, mentally deciding whether he should just run now or maybe try to talk himself out of this.

* * *

><p>The dining hall was full that evening, packed with delinquents and guards lining the walls.<p>

Blaine scowled at his food, prodding it with his fork as he half listened to whatever it was his friends were talking about. His meatloaf was sort of an unappealing grayish color, and Blaine was starting to think maybe Kurt had made the smarter decision skipping out of dinner tonight.

"—well anyways, Mickey says Kevin has skipped town for a while. Doesn't want any one in Westerville seeing the damage Blaine did on him." Wes was saying, "Trying to save face or something. Doesn't want anyone to know it was Blaine Anderson that roughed him up so bad. Mickey doesn't know when he's coming back so this probably pushes the plan back a little bit…"

David nodded and looked over at Blaine, who had a distant look in his eyes.

"Blaine?" David asked, shoving him in the arm.

"Oh, sorry, I was just—I was just thinking…" Blaine murmured, and turned his attention back to the other boys.

"I think its better that we get a couple of weeks till Kevin comes back, to be honest. My hand still fucking hurts…" David muttered, as he shoveled more food into his mouth.

"It's bullshit," Blaine growled, pushing his own plate away in disgust, "I can't fucking wait any longer…all this waiting is driving me up the goddamn wall. Kevin is just being a fucking coward. If he didn't have so many assholes backing him up, he'd be nothing."

"Come on Blaine," Wes said calmly, "No one even knows where he is right now. All we know is that he _will _come back, and when he does, we'll be ready."

"You seem pretty damn anxious to die bro…" David said dryly.

Blaine rolled his eyes, "Shut the fuck up. I'm not going to _die."_

David shrugged, a playful smile creeping onto his face.

Blaine shoved him and grabbed his half eaten dinner and stood up. "I'm going to go…I have too much on my mind. And the food is shit today anyways…"

Wes and David nodded and watched their friend leave.

"Yeah alright, catch you later bro."

* * *

><p>Kurt could feel his heartbeat throbbing in his throat as Scarface backed him up against the empty hallway wall, grinning as he pushed closer and closer.<p>

The hairs at the back of Kurt's neck stood on edge as he felt his back press against the cool brown wall, and flinch when Scarface placed a hand on his chest, forcibly pressing him back.

"You have something to say to me…_homo?" _Scarface prodded, snarling at Kurt.

Kurt felt his face flush with anger, "D-don't call me that…"

"What? Pretty boy like you likes cock don't you?" Scarface bent down to meet Kurt's eyes. "You haven't apologized to me yet, fairy. Don't think I forgot. I never forget."

Kurt pushed the giant back, feeling the heat rising to his chest. "No! I'm not apologizing to you! I have nothing to apologize for!"

Scarface narrowed his eyes, and Kurt could swear he saw foam forming at the corners of his mouth.

"What did you say to me?" Scarface's face was starting to heat up in anger, and he growled, balling his hands into fists.

Kurt's eyes darted to Scarface's hands and back up to his face and swallowed nervously.

Alright, he probably shouldn't have said that. He probably should have just apologized and made a run for it. Kurt stared down both sides of the corridor, his heart sinking as he realized it was dinner time and everyone—including the guards—were either in the dining hall, or watching over the main halls. No one was _ever _around the back hallways, especially not the ones near the library.

Kurt swallowed and felt himself trembling as Scarface pressed him up against the wall again with frightening force, his hands reaching around Kurt's neck to keep him in place.

Kurt tried to scream out, but it'd all happened so quickly and he quickly felt himself loosing oxygen, choking as the rough hands clenched around his throat.

It seemed like an eternity before Scarface let go, and Kurt nearly fell to the floor, only to get yanked up again by the larger boy and slammed harshly back against the wall.

Kurt groaned and tried to yell out again but his throat was burning and he was having a difficult enough time trying to catch his breath.

"No one messes with me…" Scarface barked, "No one _humiliates _me!" Scarface grabbed a fist full of Kurt's shirt, and pulled Kurt's face frighteningly close to his. His nostrils flaring, and eyes blown open and bloodshot.

Kurt's face blanched, his entire body trembling.

Kurt tried to kick Scarface as hard as he could, but Scarface didn't even flinch. Instead he laughed maliciously, a look of disturbed amusement washing over his face.

"What are you going to do now without your little boyfriends, huh fairy?" Scarface growled. In a quick motion, he pushed Kurt backwards and rammed his knee into Kurt's stomach so hard Kurt fell forward, blood sputtering from his lips, and a strangled cry of pain escaping his lips.

Scarface held him up and punched Kurt again, before finally letting his limp body slide to the floor.

Kurt winced, choking back painful sobs, letting himself just collapse onto the floor.

* * *

><p>Blaine walked down the empty corridors, his mind swirling with a mix of anger and bitterness. He didn't exactly want to go back to his dorm, and he didn't want to go down to the rec rooms and hounded by the other guys. Kurt probably was still at the library, anyways.<p>

Blaine laughed at the thought of Kurt lost in deep concentration at the library, nose buried in another magazine or catalog. It always amused Blaine at how seriously Kurt took fashion—it was sort of cute in a way. Ridiculous, but still cute.

Blaine definitely didn't understand the appeal of half of the outfits Kurt wore. That many zippers and buttons and layers would be a hassle for everybody involved, but it was still funny to see Kurt get all flustered over deciding which clothes he'd keep and which ones he'd have to throw out. And it appeared there was a whole new kind of stress when it came to the new season.

He looked good in everything though, Blaine had to admit. Even if the clothes looked weird and shit on the hanger, once it was hanging off Kurt's tall, slender figure, Blaine could _sort of _get into it…ish. Hell, Kurt even made the Dalton Academy uniforms look decent.

Blaine shook his head, smiling as he looked up from his mindless walking. He'd just unconsciously walked right up to the library door.

He thought about Kurt much too often, Blaine decided with a soft chuckle.

Blaine sighed and after a few moments of consideration, pushed open the old wooden doors and walked in.

In all honesty, this _actually_ might've be Blaine's first time going into Dalton's library. As much as Blaine loved his books, none of them were from the school's library. Being spotted here would probably be some form of social suicide.

The library wasn't too big—why should it be? No one ever went. Blaine figured most of the funding the school had went to the hospital wing and the guards' pension. The library could be filled with porn and comic books and no one would even know.

Blaine glanced around at the room, completely empty except for the quiet, elderly woman sitting at the front desk scanning a large stack of books she had on the counter. She didn't even bother to look up from the books, probably figuring it was just another lost student.

Blaine narrowed his eyes in confusion and walked back out of the library.

If Kurt wasn't here…did he go back to the dorms?

* * *

><p>Scarface towered over Kurt, leaning down until he was eyelevel with the smaller boy. His mouth was curled up in a nasty snarl, smiling down at Kurt.<p>

Kurt whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel the taller boy's breath against his cheek, causing him to shudder. The pain was almost unbearable, and he felt a chill go down his spine as he tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

"Please…please just—just…" Kurt stuttered, afraid to open his eyes, feeling tears starting to build up behind his eyelids.

"What? Say it…please_ what_?" Scarface teased, his breath brushing against Kurt's delicate skin.

Kurt cringed and tried to turn away, but he felt Scarface's rough hands on his cheek harshly turn his face back to face him.

"Don't ignore me you fucking fairy!" Scarface growled.

Kurt was about to cry out in pain when suddenly—

"WHAT THE _FUCK _DID YOU CALL HIM?" a voice yelled from down the empty hallway.

Kurt opened his eyes meekly at the sound of the familiar voice, and stared down the corridor to see an infuriated Blaine standing at the end, his eyes blazed with rage.

Scarface moved away from Kurt almost immediately. He stood back up to his full height, and glowered at Blaine, who was storming toward him in quick paces, his hands clenched into tight fists.

Blaine was a stark contrast to the hulking boy with the hideous scar running down his face. Standing several feet shorter than Scarface, and a much smaller frame.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Skylar?" Blaine snarled, as he approached the other boy.

Despite the immense size difference, Blaine strode up to the giant, and shoved him back with one powerful push.

Scarface narrowed his eyes as he stumbled back a few steps.

Kurt watched in silent fear. He reached a hand to his mouth in shock, but nearly vomited when he drew his hand back and saw it covered in blood. He trembled against the wall, barely able to sit up right, unable to say a word, unable to even _move. _His stomach was burning in pain from where Scarface had punched him, and he was starting to feel lightheaded.

Blaine walked up to Scarface again, his hazel eyes burning with dark brown and emerald flames.

"Fuck off, you midget fag," Skylar muttered harshly, but stepped back a few steps as Blaine continued to surge forward. "Your boyfriend deserved what he got."

Blaine could feel his blood boil beneath his skin. "What _the fuck_ did you just say to me?" His voice was dangerously low, and he continued to walk towards the other boy until he had him cornered against the wall at the end of the hall.

Scarface didn't respond. His eyes flickered from Blaine's balled up fist and the look of sheer disgust and hatred in his expression.

"I asked you a question Skylar…" Blaine repeated, "What the FUCK did you call me?"

Scarface felt himself being cornered. No where to run.

"What? Are you too shitless to say it again? You _scared _of the midget fag now?" Blaine's voice was cruel, each word dripping from his mouth with venomous loathing.

Suddenly, from a few feet down the hall from the glowering pair, Kurt cried out in pain, and there was a loud thud as Kurt hit the floor.

Blaine whipped his head around to see Kurt slumped over on his side, his eyes squeezed together tightly, and his hands clutching at his stomach in pain. There was blood around his mouth and some bruises around his neck.

In an instant, Blaine had turned on his heel and was rushing to where Kurt lay on the floor.

He dropped down to his knees beside Kurt and tried to prop Kurt back up. Kurt's eyes fluttered open and what sounded like a half wince, half groan escaped his mouth. Kurt had blood trickling down from his mouth, and he was pressing his hands against his stomach in severe pain.

Blaine glanced over him with worried eyes, and his hand moved up to wipe the blood from the corner of Kurt's mouth with his thumb. Blaine slipped his hands beneath Kurt's side and lifted Kurt up gently as he tried to prop him back up against the wall. He carefully moved Kurt's hands away from his stomach and lightly lifted his shirt up to inspect the damage.

Enormous red blotches covered Kurt's stomach, and Blaine could feel bile rise to his throat, his own stomach tug painfully, and his chest ache in a way it hadn't in a long while.

Scarface watched in silence as Blaine murmured soothing words to Kurt. Kurt's eyes were falling shut in pain, and Blaine was trying his best to keep him conscious.

"Goddamn homos…" Scarface murmured under his breath as he turned around, quietly slinking away while Blaine was distracted with Kurt.

Blaine froze when he heard the low grumble of Scarface's voice, suddenly re-aware of the other boy's presence.

He turned to see the coward moving away down the hall, quietly trying to slip away.

At that moment from the other side of the hall, The Warden and two guards were heading down the hall, immediate horror washing over her face as soon as she saw Blaine kneeling beside what looked to be an unconscious student, and another angry looking boy lurking around the end of the hallway.

"Blaine Anderson!" Ms. Harvey cried out, rushing as fast as she could down the long corridor, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floors.

Blaine ignored the familiar screech and made sure Kurt was leaning sturdily against the wall before jumping up, and with lightening speed, raced after the taller boy.

With gritted teeth, Blaine ran up to the other boy, his eyes flickering with flames of disgust and hatred. He narrowed his eyes, and with surprising strength, pulled his balled hands back, grabbed the giant by the shirt collar, bringing him down to Blaine's level, and let his fist crash against his face—a sounding crack echoing down the hall.

"MR. ANDERSON!" The Warden screamed again.

The blood flowed from Scarface's nose almost immediately and he took a few staggering steps backward from impact, his hands covering his face, and growling in pain.

Blaine let the bastard trip over his own feet and finally fall to the floor with a thud, ignoring the shrill screams of the Warden behind him, and shook his fist in pain a couple times. _Fuck _that guy had a hard face.

He stared at the huge lump lying in a pathetic heap on the floor. Blaine had an urge to spit on him, but held back when he heard another groan from behind him and quickly turned his attention back to Kurt.

He turned around and saw The Warden leaning over Kurt anxiously, her eyes darting from him and back to Blaine, trying to figure out the situation. He saw the guards walking toward him, but Blaine just snarled as they attempted to grab Blaine's arms to contain him. Blaine shoved them away in one quick movement, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, and he moved back to where Kurt lay on the floor.

The Warden was staring at him with wide eyes filled with confusion and concern, not knowing what Blaine was about to do.

"Mr. Anderson, what just happ—"

Blaine flashed her a look of irritation, and gently pushed her aside.

Blaine gave her one last passing glare, before slipping a hand behind Kurt's back, and the other beneath Kurt's knees, and in one swift motion, and with unbelievable ease, picked up the taller boy in his arms, and headed down the hall toward the hospital wing.

Ms. Harvey watched Blaine walk away in complete and utter shock. The other two guards had picked up Scarface and were hauling him to his feet, also shooting the Warden confused looks.

It took Ms. Harvey a few more seconds to register exactly what had just happened, and soon her heels were once again clicking down the halls as she swiftly trailed behind Blaine toward the hospital wing.

* * *

><p>Kurt woke up later that night feeling unbelievably light headed, feeling an overall sensation of numbness across his body. He was in some sort of dimly lit room, and he blinked in confusion as he tried to assess his unfamiliar surroundings. Where <em>was <em>he?

He winced and tried to turned over, groaning at the shock of dull pain and soreness he felt.

Kurt's breath hitched when he finally was able to move over and caught sight of a familiar figure with slicked back hair slumped in a chair beside the bed, his head resting in his hands, his elbows propped on his knees, and eyes were staring idly at the floor as if lost in deep thought.

"…Blaine?" Kurt whispered his throat still a bit sore. He tilted his head, and squinted, trying to catch his eyes.

Blaine sat up immediately, and walked over to the bed, his hazel eyes growing wide, practically glowing in the dark room.

"Where am I?" Kurt asked weakly, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted.

"The hospital wing—you're…in the hospital wing." Blaine answered gently, his eyes trailing up Kurt's body to finally rest on his eyes.

"Am I okay?" Kurt asked hesitantly. He swallowed as all the memories of earlier that evening started to come back, and he winced again.

Blaine sighed and nodded, "You'll be fine. Just some heavy bruising… nurse says you'll be okay in a day or two, with rest."

Kurt smiled meekly, and shifted uncomfortably in the bed.

"…Are you always this impulsive, Kurt Hummel?" Blaine said quietly, a small, pained smile creeping onto his face. "Barely here for a month and you've already picked two fights with the biggest kid in school."

Kurt let out a breath, "Yeah…I think I need to work on that. Can't afford to be so reckless."

Blaine chuckled and pulled his chair up to the bed and sat down.

"Please don't scare me like that again…" Blaine mumbled awkwardly, looking down at his hands as he said it.

Kurt could see Blaine's dark eyelashes fan over his cheek as he fiddled with his fingers in his lap.

"…I'm sorry," Kurt whispered back, trying to smile, "I'll try not to be so stubborn. Doesn't seem to get me anywhere good."

Blaine slowly lifted his eyes to meet Kurt's, sharp hazel meeting bright blue.

Kurt blinked, and turned his head away quickly. He began shaking again as he his head flooded with the memory of Scarface pushing him against the wall, remembered the way he'd gripped his throat…remembered the feeling of his fists making impact on his stomach—even the lurching way he fell forward as the pain surged through him.

Kurt could feel the tears stinging the back of his eyes, his entire body beginning to tremble.

Blaine's eyes widened with worry. "Kurt? Kurt what's wrong? Does something hurt? I thought the nurse had given you some painki—"

Kurt shook his head, and wiped at his tears with the back of his hand. "No, no, I'm fine. I just—it all just happened so…so _fast. _I think the shock is starting to kick in…"

Blaine swallowed nervously and moved up closer to Kurt.

"It was like—it was like I was back at McKinley again…" Kurt's voice shook as he spoke, "But it was worse_. _Much, _much_ worse…and I didn't even think that was _possible…_"

Blaine's hands clenched into fists in his lap, now wishing he'd kicked Scarface a few more times after he'd punched him.

"I remember seeing you though," Kurt said with a watery smile, "I remember seeing you run down the hall towards me, and I didn't feel as scared anymore…"

Blaine's breath hitched, and he inched closer to Kurt.

"I broke his nose," Blaine whispered.

Kurt's eyes were sparkling in the dim hospital wing room, the only light coming from the few beams of moonlight streaming in through the window.

Blaine's face was so close to his, only a few inches separating them.

"You—you did?" Kurt could barely register what Blaine was saying to him, feeling his heart beginning to race from their close proximity, and his breathing get a little heavier.

"I had to…he hurt you…" Blaine murmured back.

Blaine couldn't quite understand what he was doing, couldn't quite understand how it was possible for Kurt to look so _beautiful_ with the moonlight shining against his perfectly, pale face. His long dampened eyelashes fluttering and his lips slightly parted. His bright eyes were practically gleaming in the light, and Blaine couldn't take his eyes off his them.

"Thank you…" Kurt whispered, his pulse ringing in his ear.

Blaine's hand came up to cup Kurt face, and he leaned in, only inches away.

"Any time…" Blaine replied breathlessly before finally closing the gap between them, catching Kurt's lips with his.

Kurt could barely process what was happening. Blaine was _kissing him. _Not the hesitant, nervous kiss that some part of Kurt's brain was expecting, but a bold, forceful kiss that would have knocked Kurt backwards if he wasn't already laying down. Kurt was stunned. His heart was still pounding furiously in his chest, and his mind was racing-but despite it all, he found that his lips were actually kissing back…

* * *

><p><strong>Oh! I know i've been trying to update every afternoon, but that might get a little difficult for me for now since I so much stuff I need to get done, nevertheless, i'll try my best!<strong>

**Leave a Review? (:**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for the kind reviews! They were all so amazing, and quite baffling to be honest. I'm glad you are all enjoying the fic! You are all amazing, wonderful people (: This chapter was a little bit difficult for me to write…I'm not sure why, but I feel Like I was never able to get it **_**juuust **_**right…I don't know. You guys be the judge xD**

**Warnings: Language and references to violence.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee! (:**

* * *

><p><strong>Risk It All<strong>

**Chapter 7**

This was a completely new sensation to Kurt, like a moment woven entirely beyond his own imagination. Blaine's lips were soft as they moved against his own, sending shivers down his spine. Kurt could feel the pounding of his heart as it roared loudly in his ears—he seemed to have forgotten how to think, and simply let himself _feel_. He'd lost all sense of everything other than the warmth of Blaine's mouth on his own and the way Blaine's fingers were brushing lightly against his cheek and—and then…and then Blaine was pulling away…

Kurt felt Blaine's hand slip from his face, leaving a trail of tingling sensations on his skin from where it'd touched, and Kurt slowly let his eyes flutter open.

"Whoa…" Kurt said breathlessly, as his eyes immediately caught onto dark hazel.

They stared at each other for a moment, both panting slightly, neither knowing what exactly had just happened, or what to do now, now that it was over. Blaine's eyes were wide as the realization of what he'd just done began to sink in, and he moved a few inches away.

He shouldn't have done that—he just couldn't help it.

Even now, he was having trouble peeling his eyes away from Kurt. He looked breathtaking, his eyes glowing bright blue in the dark moonlit room, his cheeks still a bit flushed from their kiss. Kurt's mouth was parted ever so slightly, and Blaine had a sudden urge to just press his lips against Kurt's once again.

"_Holy shit_…" Blaine breathed out, with no intention of saying any other coherent words, just needing to say _anything _to break the cold silence that had fallen between them.

Blaine's words were met with a long silence, the shock and disbelief nearly palpable in the tension between them. He could see the hazy look in Kurt's eyes, blinking up at him in confusion, the soft pools of blue making him feel oddly warm inside.

"It's getting late…" Blaine said quietly, his eyes starting to linger.

"Is it?" Kurt whispered back, feeling as if time itself had vanished into the moment. Blaine's eyes were dark, but not in the same frightening way they were when he was angry or upset. It was a different kind of intensity, a kind of intensity that made Kurt's heart race, that made his breath catch in his throat.

"You need to rest, so I should go…umm…just rest, alright?" Blaine said softly, pulling back until he was standing up straight again. He glanced at Kurt one last time, until finally tearing his eyes away and quickly made his way out of the hospital wing.

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but any words died on his tongue and he just watched as Blaine turned on his heel and made a bee-line out the door, leaving Kurt feeling more confused than ever.

Kurt could still feel the ghost of Blaine's touch on his skin—against his lips—and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

Blaine had just kissed him. Blaine had just _kissed _him. It didn't make sense.

Kurt sighed and eased back against the pillows. Too much had happened today—part of Kurt wanted to believe Scarface had punched him so hard that he was lying in a _real _hospital bed, recovering from a coma, and was currently floating somewhere in his subconscious, and everything that had just happened was just a very delirious, yet shockingly vivid hallucination—A very fantastic_, _but _insane_ hallucination.

At least that would give him _some _sort of explanation.

* * *

><p><em>This isn't happening. This can't be happening. I couldn't have let this happen. How could I have let this happen?<em>

Blaine repeated the words over and over in his head like a mantra as he stumbled down the dark empty halls of Dalton Academy, glancing around anxiously as he avoided the night guards that patrolled every damn foyer of the school. His entire body was shaking, and his heart hadn't stopped pounding furiously in his chest since he'd left the hospital wing. He needed some air…he needed some air or he honestly thought he was going to pass out.

—He'd just _kissed _Kurt Hummel. He just fucking _kissed _him.

Blaine glanced around the corridor one last time before quietly slipping out one of the side doors near the hospital wing, and out into the cool February air, taking a few deep breaths of fresh air, willing his breathing to even out a bit.

Blaine wanted desperately to scream out or yell—_anything _that would make this constricting feeling around his chest go away, but he was still feeling a bit dizzy from everything spinning in his head, and the heat that still hadn't faded from his chest. He sighed and leaned his head back against the cool wall.

He'd been stupid, Blaine decided as he fished out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.

He let himself slide down the grey prison-esque walls until he was crouching on the floor, his knees finally giving out beneath him. Blaine flicked the lighter in his unsteady hands a couple of times, needing a few attempts before he was finally able to light it up, and with trembling fingers, slowly brought it up to his mouth. He felt his body relax as he took a drag, letting the cigarette take its course through his body.

Blaine lifted his head and released a shaky breath, watching as the grey puff of smoke streamed from his lips and lift upwards into the night air.

He let his head fall back against the brick and squeezed his eyes shut.

"What the _fuck _is the matter with you, Blaine?" He murmured to himself, twisting the cigarette between his fingers.

Blaine's mind was just about swirling with a mess of conflicting emotions. He wrestled with all the thoughts, questions, and images that seemed to run unceasingly through his mind, desperately trying to make some sense of them all, but was failing miserably. There was something about Kurt, something stubborn, passionate, and utterly unique about him.

And _the kiss…_Blaine had never kissed anyone like that before. I mean, _sure, _he'd messed around with a few boys in his time, but it had never meant anything. There was never anything like_ this_. It'd always been a casual, purely physical relationship—there wasn't anything emotional about it, simply just _sex_. What happened tonight was something completely different.

Blaine swallowed as the vivid memory came flooding back.

Blaine couldn't explain what had come over him in that exact moment. There was just something about the way Kurt was looking at him, smiling weakly through red rimmed eyes, displaying the liquid emotion that melted and flowed across his face, the light blue pools of his eyes were practically glowing—and he was just so _close_, Blaine could almost feel the sheer electricity crackling between them. So he just…_leaned in._

Blaine cut off the memory of the kiss as quickly as possible, and took another long drag from his cigarette.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't do any of this. Kurt was a distraction at best. That was all he _could _be. He was different. He was from a whole different world, and Kurt had no idea. Kurt didn't know who Blaine was, or what he's done. Kurt doesn't know _a thing—_and it'd be best to keep it that way. Blaine couldn't let all of his fucked up emotions and _feelings _and shit get in the way what was important. And he definitely wasn't going to drag Kurt into all of it.

Blaine's eyebrows knitted together and he leaned forward from where he rested against the wall, hunching over his knees, and watched as the last of his cigarette burned out between his fingers.

Whatever _this _was, it was done. Blaine had made the mistake of letting it happen, but it couldn't go on. There was too much at stake.

Blaine hoisted himself up, taking one last deep breath of fresh air, and slipped back into the main building toward the dormitories, just narrowly avoiding two guards who were passing by.

* * *

><p>Kurt awoke that morning, blinking at the blindingly bright light seeping in through the hospital wing windows. The curtains were drawn back, letting all the sun's rays shine in, causing Kurt to groan and pull his blankets up over his face. He tried to roll over, but immediately felt a sharp pain in his stomach, and a migraine beginning to pulse at his temples.<p>

"Good morning, Mr. Hummel," a sweet voice hummed from beside Kurt's bedside.

Kurt glanced around the room sleepily as he tried to find the source of the voice, blinking a few more times as his eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

"How are you feeling?" The voice chorused again.

Kurt caught sight of a rather plump woman pouring some water into a glass at his bedside table beside a small Dixie cup with what were presumably a couple painkillers inside.

"Um, I'm—I'm okay, I think," Kurt mumbled as he rubbed at his eyes.

"Well, I would think you'd be a bit sore from last night, but these should help," The nurse said with a smile, handing Kurt the glass of water and the small cup of medication.

Kurt accepted it gratefully, and smiled weakly at her as he downed the pills.

"Your parents just called to check up on you. They were very worried about you last night, but you needed your rest. They said they're on their way up from Lima, so they should be here soon," The nurse informed, leaning over to inspect Kurt's bruised stomach gently, "Your bruises seem to be fading, and the medication will help you with any pain. I'd say you'll be good as new in no time!"

Kurt winced a little when he felt the nurse add slight pressure to his stomach, but it was hurting a lot less than it had the night before.

"Luckily your ribs are fine, and there is absolutely no internal bleeding—not usually the case when patients come in after a rough tumble with Mr. Harris," the nurse said as she lifted Kurt's shirt back down, "You'll probably be walking around by this evening!"

"Mr. Harris?" Kurt repeated, massaging his temples as they throbbed painfully.

"Yes, Skylar Harris," The nurse said gently, "He won't be bothering you anymore. Ms. Harvey gave him his final strike, and he'll be gone as soon as his nose heals."

_I broke his nose…_

Kurt's breath hitched as the memory hit him like a wave. _Blaine…_

Kurt shook his head and focused his attention back to the nurse, forcing a smile, "Oh right, Skylar..."

The nurse nodded, "You had quite a night, Mr. Hummel," She said as she turned to leave, "You need your rest." And with one last kind glance, she disappeared back out into the main room of the hospital wing.

Kurt sighed in silent agreement. It _was _quite a night—for more reasons than one.

* * *

><p>Blaine twirled his fork in his hands idly, barely listening to anything Wes was droning on about—something about a shiny new knife one of his guys had snuck to him the other day? Or had he already moved on to brag more about this mystery girl he'd supposedly been seeing for the last month or so? Whatever, it was all irrelevant shit anyways. Blaine just wished he could actuallypay attention. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about Kurt all night, and hadn't gotten much sleep because of it. Even now, sitting in the dining hall for breakfast, all he could think about was <em>Kurt.<em>

"—Blaine?" Wes repeated, waving his hand in front of Blaine's face.

Blaine blinked and looked up at his friend, "What?"

"Jesus, haven't you been listening _at all?" _Wes said in exasperation.

Blaine blinked dully at him.

Wes sighed, and turned to David, who simply shrugged at him.

"What's wrong Blaine?" Wes tried, trying to coax some information out of his friend, "Is this about your fight with Scarface yesterday? Because we heard that The Warden finally kicked him out of here—"

"It's nothing, all right? Just drop it." Blaine growled, "I'm not in the fucking mood," Blaine let his eyes fall back down to his untouched food.

"Shit, Blaine. What the fuck is the matter with you today?" Wes asked, getting rather irritated at his friend's recent attitude, "Quit being such a prick…"

Blaine scowled at him, and went back to pushing his food back and forth on his plate. They had _no _fucking idea what he was going through. Sure they were involved in the whole Kevin thing—but it's not like he wanted _their _heads. And he was getting more and more uneasy about the whole Kurt thing. He'd be out of the hospital wing tomorrow, Friday at the latest, and Blaine was _sure _Kurt would be the type that would want to talk about _feelings _and all that shit.

"You're acting like you have something shoved up your ass…" Wes grumbled.

David snorted, "More like what he _doesn't _have shoved up his ass, if you know what I mean…been a while hasn't it Blaine?" David burst into laughter, nudging at Wes's ribs, obviously much too proud of his snide comment.

"Shut the_ fuck_ up, David," Blaine snapped roughly, clenching his fists together and eyeing his friend with a dangerous glare.

David ignored Blaine's comment, continuing to laugh uncontrollably at his own remark.

Wes shot his friend a hesitant look, darting his eyes between Blaine's furious glare, and the hysterical laughter escaping David's lips.

"You—you in dire need of a quick blow job Blaine?" David gasped between bouts of laughter, "Is that why you're so fucking grouchy today?"

Blaine narrowed his eyes as he slowly stood up and picked up his lunch try, shooting David a nasty look. "Yeah, fuck you David. And don't say shit like that unless you're offering…"

David's laughter died down as he caught Blaine's dark eyes.

"_Are _you offering?" Blaine asked, leaning down till he was mere inches away from his laughing friend, flashing him a sarcastic, expectant look.

David froze, and it was Wes's turn to break into laughter.

Blaine shook his head in irritation, and with one last look at his friends, turned on his heel and walked out of the dining hall.

* * *

><p>Kurt waved weakly to Burt, Carole and Finn as they walked toward the doorway, lingering in the doorway as they gave Kurt their final glances before finally disappearing out into the hall and back into the main area of the hospital wing.<p>

They'd wanted to come see him last night—Burt was furious the school had even allowed something like this happen—but the nurses at Dalton had advised them to come the next day so Kurt could have some time to recover. His injuries weren't serious, but he still needed his rest.

After about an hour of Carole fussing over him, Burt demanding to talk to some of the administrators about their safety precautions, and Finn pressing him for details about the fight, they'd left him alone in peace, and stocked with a couple tupperwares full of Carole's home cooked casserole.

Kurt had been somewhat grateful he was given the option to just recover here at Dalton instead of going home to rest until the end of the weekend, because quite frankly he was worried he might _actually_ go crazy if he went four more days still wondering what in the hell had gone on between him and Blaine last night. Even just this morning, Kurt seemed to be already be losing it—completely unable to think about anything other than Blaine. His mind kept wandering back to the way Blaine's lips felt against his, and the way he'd gently cupped his cheek—even the way Blaine's teeth had gently grazed across his lower lip—

Kurt felt a shiver pass through his body, and quickly shook the memory out of his head. _No. _He needed to stop thinking about that. It was just feeding the insanity.

Kurt sighed and leaned back against his pillows, and stared idly out the window.

It was all too much to handle. First off, Kurt didn't even know if Blaine _liked _boys. Despite it all, Kurt had always just figured Blaine was about as straight as they come. Apparently not.

And whether or not Blaine fostered any feelings toward him was undetermined as well. Secretly, Kurt had felt something when their lips touched. It may have just been nerves or shock that someone was actually kissing _him, _but there was definitely something there. Kurt just didn't know what to do with those feelings. He'd never had any boy show any romantic feelings toward him, he'd certainly never been kissed like that before either.

And while he was being honest, it'd be a lie to say Kurt didn't have _some _sort of interest in Blaine already before last night. But after the whole thing with Finn, and then the other thing with Sam, Kurt had learned to hold his feelings back. He never dared to even _venture _there with Blaine. But now…everything was_ different_.

The playful teasing, the prodding and all the joking around. The innocent arguments and the coy flirting…had all that actually meant something?

Even if it was innocent and he never dared to act on it, Kurt was sure he'd had deeply repressed feelings for Blaine lingering for a while. I mean, how could he not? Blaine was the only person who was even somewhat kind to him at Dalton—really the only person who even bothered to acknowledge his existence. He put up with Kurt as a roommate, dealing with all of his beauty routines, late night video chats with friends, and the show tunes Kurt enjoyed blasting through his speakers when he studied.

And what Kurt really admired, was the fact that Blaine actually listened to him. He was sure he was probably boring Blaine to death, talking about Glee club or the newest fashion trends, but he always listened. He may have thrown in a snarky remark or some silly comment every once in a while, but he still _listened_. Even when it was about the more serious stuff, like their conversation about Kurt's past at McKinley and Karofsky, and the reason he'd wound up in Dalton in the first place. Blaine hadn't judged him in the slightest, and it'd really meant a lot to Kurt to actually _tell _someone who didn't just feel pity for him, but actually seemed to understand him.

Kurt chewed his lower lip.

And the _fight_—if it could even be considered as one.

Blaine had saved him not once, but _twice. _And from the amount of violence that went down at a place like Dalton, Kurt was positive Blaine probably wouldn't have done it for just anybody. Especially since it was _Scarface_, who tended to pick fights with every single person who even dared glance in his direction, and Blaine seemingly never even batted an eye.

Blaine definitely held some sort of authority around the school, for reasons Kurt had no idea, but he was sure it wasn't for saving scared little boys like him from huge hulking guys like Scarface.

"—um, excuse me, nurse?" Kurt called out when the same plump nurse suddenly bustled by, jerking him from his thoughts.

"Yes, dear?" She asked distractedly, pausing to glance over at Kurt, her hands full with gauze and a few bottles of rubbing alcohol.

"I'm feeling a lot better, is it okay if I go back to my dorm now?" Kurt asked hopefully, knitting his eyebrows together as he heard a loud groan come from across the hall.

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Hummel. You need to stay here a bit longer." She replied, "Perhaps tomorrow night?"

Kurt sighed, unable to bear with the idea of spending another restless night trying to figure everything out on his own. Part of him hoped that Blaine would at least come and visit or something so that they could talk.

A sounding scream called from the same direction as the previous groan, and a loud string of curse words followed.

The nurse blushed and murmured something under her breath about yet _another _fight breaking out over the lack of guards at the dining hall.

"_Please…" _Kurt tried one more time, chewing on his lip and shooting the kind hearted nurse a look of desperation.

The nurse gave him a sympathetic look, and glanced anxiously down the hall where the painful screams continued.

"Look, I need to go help the other nurses tend to another student—the poor boy got shoved right into the soup table, burns _everywhere._" The nurse grimaced and shook her head, "The bruises on your stomach are healing, and you're recovering very well, but I still can't let you leave just yet. I'm very sorry, Mr. Hummel."

Kurt nodded dejectedly, and let the nurse scurry off to help the ailing boy down the hall.

It looked like he was going to have to face another restless night in the hospital wing.

* * *

><p>Blaine awoke Friday morning to the sound of a cell phone vibrating loudly against a wooden desk. The sound shook Blaine from the only sleep he'd managed to get in the last two days, causing a violent, strangled groan to escape his lips.<p>

"Who the _fuck _is calling me this early…"Blaine mumbled as he sat up and searched around with half open eyes for the source of the noise.

Blaine rubbed his eyes as he spotted the blurry shape lighting up on his desk and snatched the sleek black phone Wes had given him last night off the table—The Warden had stripped _him_ of any personal communicating devices months ago, and he usually resorted to getting Wes to loan him one if he ever needed it—and pressed it to his ear, flopping back into bed with a loud yawn.

"What?" Blaine answered in irritation.

"_Blaine!"_ came Jamie's rushed voice on the other end.

"What the fuck is the matter with you? It's 5am!" Blaine snarled into the phone.

"_Look, this is the only time I could call you before the fat-ass and Denise wake up…" _Jamie said anxiously, lowering his voice.

Blaine sighed, feeling empathetic toward the kid, knowing he'd had to suffer through one foster home to the next—each one seemingly worse than the last.

"Just say what you need to say, Jamie. I'm fucking tired…" Blaine muttered, feeling his heavy eyelids lulling him back to sleep.

"_I heard a rumor that Kevin's back in town. No one but his most trusted guys knows where he is—even Mickey doesn't know."_

Blaine sat up immediately, his eyes snapping open, "What? But we haven't—I thought we had more time."

"_You do…but Kevin isn't stupid. He knows you guys are planning a counter attack. He has new guys on the watch." _Jamie's voice seemed anxious,_ "He's still in pretty bad shape, so he won't be a threat yet—but he's watching you. And rumor has it—he recruited spies in Dalton too…"_

"Fuck…" Blaine breathed out, clenching his fists together.

"_I think Wes can get more info on this tonight, but it's just a heads up. You need to be careful, alright?"_

"Yeah…" Blaine responded idly, "You too J…"

* * *

><p>The nurses had finally let Kurt out of the hospital wing Friday evening when he proved to them that he could walk with only minor pains, and assured them that the fading scars on his stomach weren't causing him too much discomfort anymore.<p>

He was able to move around almost normally—even though the nurses advised him to rest as much as he could, and to wait till the bruises had turned a lighter color before doing anything too physically straining—but Kurt didn't hear much of what they were saying. His mind was still too focused on finding Blaine so they could talk about the kiss that still hadn't seemed to leave his mind since Wednesday.

Kurt pulled on a Dalton Academy sweatshirt, and with a quick wave to the nurses, quickly made his way toward the main area of the school.

It was about six-thirty, so most of the boys had gone down to the dining hall already. Kurt decided he would just go rest back at the dorm, and wait till Blaine came back so they could talk alone in their own room, away from Blaine's friends and minions.

Kurt walked slowly up the stairs of the dormitories. He wondered what Blaine was going to say, or how he would act once he saw Kurt again. Would he be worried like he was in the hospital wing before their kiss, or would he be his normal teasing self and try to take a peek at his battle wounds? Kurt sighed and trudged up the final flight of stairs—the biggest question lingering in the back of his mind…_where did the two of them stand now?_

Kurt's breath hitched as he rounded the corner. Blaine was standing in front of their dorm, speaking in low tones with Wes, the two of them hunched over something in Wes's hand.

Kurt approached them slowly, his eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. Wes had apparently just said something that seemed to infuriate Blaine, and Kurt could see his fists clench as he snapped out a few colorful curse words that would make even a pirate blush.

"You cannot be fucking serious." Blaine deadpanned, eyeing Wes with a look of disbelief, "Are you fucking serious?"

"I'm just saying that maybe we should rethink our original—" Wes was saying.

"—Kurt!" Blaine said in surprise, turning his head toward the familiar figure making his way down the hallway.

Kurt glanced at the pair awkwardly, feeling his nerves beginning to build as he felt Blaine's eyes gloss over him.

Wes shot Kurt an irritated look, and with one last glance toward Blaine, swiftly pushed past Kurt in the hall, and disappeared around the corner.

Blaine stared past Kurt where Wes had just stormed off for a few more seconds, before sighing and turning back into the open dorm room, not even offering Kurt a passing glance.

Kurt followed him in, in confusion, wondering what could possibly be going on with Blaine lately that was making him so, _on edge_ all the time.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, stepping into the dim room and flicking on the lights Blaine hadn't even bothered to turn on. He could see Blaine had already planted himself on one of the chairs in the small sitting area between the two sides of the room and was now staring into space, idly playing with a piece of balled up paper in his hand.

"Is um—is everything okay?" Kurt attempted, stepping towards Blaine hesitantly.

Blaine didn't respond, didn't even look in Kurt's direction. Kurt wondered if Blaine was purposefully trying to ignore his presence, or if he was actually locked in some weird trance that he didn't even notice he'd come in. He was about to say something again, but Blaine had already begun to speak up.

"So, they let you out of the hospital wing," Blaine said bluntly, still not turning to meet Kurt's gaze.

Blaine could tell from Kurt's expression that there was only one thing on his mind—the one thing that Blaine happened to _never _want to talk about again. He'd just learned some _unsettling _news, and honestly, wasn't in the fucking mood to talk about his feelings and whatever other shit Kurt was about to propose.

"Well, I needed to talk to you," Kurt said hesitantly.

Blaine winced. _Of course he did._

"About what?" Blaine asked dryly, folding up the little ball of paper in his hand and stuffing it into his pocket.

"Blaine!" Kurt said in exasperation, "Why are you acting like this? You _know _full well what it is we need to talk about."

"And what is that, Hummel?" Blaine sighed, looking up at Kurt expectantly, "_Please, _Enlighten me."

"What?" Kurt blurted out, "Are you serious? Blaine…you kissed me. And there's nothing you want to say to me about that?" Kurt swallowed nervously, but didn't back down. "You…you _kissed _me Blaine."

Blaine stood up and strode toward Kurt—the suddenness of his movement causing Kurt to flinch.

"_That…_was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened, alright?" Blaine growled, coming face to face with Kurt, his hazel eyes piercing with intensity.

"…And that's it?" Kurt asked coldly, his eyes narrowing in Blaine's direction, "That's _all _you have to say?"

Blaine just clenched his jaw, refusing to meet Kurt's eyes.

"You _kissed _me, Blaine. It wasn't _nothing, _it was—" Kurt continued.

"IT WAS A MISTAKE, ALL RIGHT?" Blaine roared in conviction as he sprung up from where he stood, turning his glare to Kurt, "A _fucking _mistake—that never should have happened."

"Why are you doing this?" Kurt whispered, walking toward Blaine slowly, his eyes not faltering as he continued to look at Blaine with misty eyes. Kurt stood in silent shock, Blaine's words hanging between them.

The tension began to build, and Blaine could see the _oh too_ familiar glint rising in Kurt's eyes that basically assured him that this discussion was _far _from over.

"Just stop, Hummel. I told you I don't want to talk about it," Blaine grumbled, feeling Kurt moving closer towards him.

Kurt's eyes sparked with fury, "Why can't you understand that I _can't _just leave it? I need you to talk to me about this. I—I can't _un-_feel what happened." Kurt swallowed and took another hesitant step toward Blaine, "It—it meant something to you too. I know it did."

Blaine's eyes snapped up, blazing with a fury that startled Kurt in spite of himself. "How are you so sure you know what I felt?"

Feeling very affronted, Kurt scowled back over his shoulder. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you forget?" he asked, his voice oozing sarcasm. "Because I'm pretty sure it was _you _that kissed _me_."

Blaine almost seemed to falter at that, but if he did, he covered it immediately. "I told you, it was a _mistake. _So just fucking drop it!"

"You are _so _pathetic Blaine. Are you _so_ afraid that you're going to just sit there and deny that there was something between us?" Kurt argued back, his face flushed with anger.

Blaine shot Kurt one last glare before snatching himself away from him with a furious growl and went to go sit at the edge of his bed, hunching over as angry vibrations crawled up his spine. He felt every muscle flex across his shoulders and down his arms as he balled his fists and rested his head against his knuckles. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take Kurt staring at him with those _eyes. _He couldn't stand the vulnerable emotion plastered all over his face. He just _couldn't_.

"Leave it, Hummel. I told you I don't want to talk about it," Blaine muttered through gritted teeth, feeling Kurt walking closer towards him.

"Is—is it because I'm a boy?" Kurt asked hesitantly, feeling angry tears prickling the back of his eyes.

"What?" Blaine asked incredulously, flashing Kurt an irritated look.

"Is that why you're acting like this?" Kurt asked again, "Because you don't want to accept the fact that you kissed a boy?"

Blaine's eyes softened for a split second. "No, that's not the reason," Blaine swallowed, his voice wavering, and averted his eyes away, "I told you, you aren't the only person who likes cock in this shit hole…"

"If—if that isn't it then why—" Kurt began.

"Kurt! _Please…_" Blaine's eyes pleaded for him to drop the subject.

Kurt stared at him with narrowed eyes, crossing his arms across his chest, blinking back tears he refused to shed. "Blaine, it wasn't just the kiss—you _saved _me. You saved me from Scarface. I don't even know _why _you were in that part of school…besides—" Kurt voice had fallen to a whisper, "You told me you were _never _going to save me again. So tell me, why _did_ you do it? Did you come looking for me?"

Blaine wished Kurt would just stop asking him questions. They were answers even _he _couldn't answer. Why _had_ he wandered the back corridors of Dalton that evening? Why _had _he walked to the library when he knew full well that Kurt was going to be there? And why _did_ he feel such deep loathing towards Scarface Skylar—a guy Blaine had never even bothered to acknowledge before Kurt had stepped into the picture?

"Blaine?" Kurt repeated again when he didn't answer.

"I owed you…" Blaine murmured, "You didn't rat me out when I came back from my fight, and I saved your ass from getting pummeled to death. We're even."

"That's not the reason and you _know _it," Kurt said, feeling his resolve crumbling, unable to understand how Blaine could be kissing him one night, and act like this the next.

Blaine's head snapped up at his words, and a violent sense of dread seized his chest. "Kurt, look it was an _intense _moment. I didn't _mean _for that to happen—I don't know what came over me. I'm—I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong fucking impression, or whatever."

Kurt didn't even bat an eye.

"When you kissed me, I felt something. I—I don't know how to explain it, but it was there—and you felt it too." Kurt said icily, even though his heart had started to pound heavily in his chest as soon as the bold words flew out of his mouth, "I could see it in your eyes right after. I don't know why you're—"

"—Will you just drop it, Hummel? It was nothing but a fucking mistake—a momentary lapse in judgment." Blaine snapped, "Why can't you just let it go?"

Blaine could feel the anger coursing through his veins. Kurt wasn't going to just let it go—and he'd expected that much from him. Kurt was the stubborn type-something he usually found enduring, just not in this situation-and it was obvious he was going to keep pressing at this until Blaine admitted to it. And it didn't really help that Kurt could also see right through him either, it was getting harder and harder to lie. How could he just _explain _to Kurt that he shouldn't bother with him? That _he _wasn't someone Kurt should be interested in _at all._

"Do you want to know how I felt, Hummel? Do you _really?_" Blaine repeated in husky whisper, as he stood up to face Kurt, his patience wearing thin.

Kurt matched Blaine's glare with his own, his eyes blazed with blue fire. "Yes!" He cried out, "Because at least then I'd know why you're acting like this, why you're so bitter, and why you feel the need to deny everything." Kurt could feel the heat rising to his chest, "Just _tell me! _Because I don't think I could deal with—_"_

Blaine didn't even let Kurt finish before lurching forward, and smashed their lips together into a deep kiss. His right hand flew up to cup Kurt's cheek, kissing him hard on the mouth with such sudden passion and insistence that Kurt would have fallen backwards if Blaine's other hand hadn't already snaked around his back to hold him in place.

This kiss was nothing like their first one—which had been much gentler, softer, and more controlled.

The way Blaine was moving his lips against Kurt's was a lot rougher than it'd been the other night, but even so, everything left Kurt's mind immediately, and despite everything that had just been said, Kurt knew he'd be unable to hold back even if he wanted to. _Hell, _he was ready to drown in Blaine if he'd let him. Kurt shivered as Blaine's thumb trailed down his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. He could feel nothing but the rapid pounding of his heart, and the feverish effect Blaine's lips had on him.

Blaine pressed their bodies closer, deepening the kiss, ravaging Kurt's mouth with his own.

"Blaine..." Kurt moaned softly, letting the name slip from his lips like a soft breath as Blaine broke away, taking a few steps backwards and putting a respectable distance between himself and Kurt again.

Kurt's eyes fluttered open in confusion, feeling rather disoriented for a moment, immediately missing Blaine's soft, warm lips on his. But when his eyes focused to look at Blaine again, his heart nearly froze in his chest. Blaine's expression was just as cold and bitter as it had been before he'd kissed him—possibly even more so.

"Nothing…" Blaine growled harshly, "I feel absolutely _nothing…_"

Before Kurt could even say a word, Blaine was storming toward the door, flinging it open, and slammed it loudly behind him.

Kurt let out a gasp he didn't even know he was holding in, and collapsed to his knees, feeling his entire body crumble to the floor. The tears had come faster than he'd expected, streaming down his cheeks before he could even attempt to stop them. And through shaky sobs, Kurt pulled his knees up to his chest, and buried his face in them, curling into a ball in the center of the dorm, too far gone to even cross the room to his bed, Blaine's words still echoing in his ears.

* * *

><p>Blaine made it about as far as the main corridor of the first level dorms before he felt his knees trembling beneath him, and quickly braced an arm against the nearest wall to avoid from falling over.<p>

He hadn't expected to do that—it was _cruel_, even for him.

He could see Kurt's quivering lips and wide eyes staring at him in shock as soon as the venomous words had dripped from his lips. The soft blue eyes were gleaming with tears, threatening to fall at any moment, dampening his dark eyelashes.

Blaine leaned back against the wall, and let out a shaky breath. He had to do it though. Kurt wasn't listening to him, and he had to hurt him now, or risk hurting him even more later on.

He couldn't give into his fucking emotions—and he wasn't going to. He'd let his emotions take over him once before, and there was no way he was going to let that happen again. Not after everything it'd cost him. Kurt may hate him for this, but Blaine knew this was the only way. Maybe it was even _better _that Kurt hated him, at least Blaine could feel at least some repentance for his harsh actions.

He felt around his pockets blindly, trying to find the fucking note he'd stuffed into his jeans earlier in the hallway while he was with Wes. He could feel his heart practically pounding into his throat as he felt the small lump in his right pocket and pulled the crumpled piece of paper out, unfolding it with unsteady hands.

The note hadn't been from Wes. The two of them had found it taped to Blaine's door after class. From what they could tell, it was a direct message from Kevin himself, probably delivered by his rat. It was a notice that he was after Blaine this time around.

Blaine wasn't afraid, but he also wasn't stupid. He knew what Kevin was capable of, and he knew he didn't stand much of a chance. Especially with Kevin's spy so close—if they weren't careful, Wes's perfectly drawn out plan could be ruined.

Blaine slid down the wall, balling the note up angrily in his palm, and let his head fall messily into his arms.

If they weren't careful…_everything _could be ruined.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Second Note: Soooo…thoughts? I told you I'm a little bit angsty (a lot angsty) I needed to throw in some drama. In my opinion the last bit with the kiss was a lot more dramatic in my head, and it worked better, but I'm not sure if I wrote it out as well as I'd planned to…ugh, not very proud of this chapter. If you have any critiques, I could probably use it….<strong>

**THANK YOU FOR READING ANYWAYS (:**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Hey guys! This is a rather long chapter…I kind of felt like I was rambling. Thank you for allllll the lovely reviews on that last chapter! It always makes my day when I receive a kind review, but don't feel scared to leave come constructive criticism too! I'm new to writing and I like getting advice. Also, sorry for not updating for a long time—I hate when real life interferes with my internet life. I hope the length makes up for it (:**

**Warnings: language, and references to violence.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee! Or any of its fabulous characters! (:**

* * *

><p><strong>Risk It All<strong>

**Chapter 8**

_Morning._

It had been, quite frankly, one of the longest nights of Blaine's life. He barely managed an ounce of sleep, and had ended up spending the better half of the night wrestling with the endless slew of thoughts, emotions and questions that were currently plaguing his mind.

By the time the sun had begun to rise over the dreary grey walls of the prison-like school, Blaine had fallen into in a rather agitated state, growing more and more irritated by the few streams of sunlight beaming in through the window.

He could hear Kurt rustling in his bed at the other side of the room, his soft sighs breaking the early morning silence.

Though Kurt was probably currently lost somewhere in blissful unconsciousness, Blaine knew he hadn't been the only one who'd had trouble sleeping last night. But unlike him, Blaine figured Kurt had managed to fall asleep sometime around 3am.

When Blaine finally slipped back to the dorm late last night, he saw that Kurt had already gone to bed, back faced to Blaine's side, and remained painfully for the rest of the night.

Blaine, on the other hand, laid awake all night, plagued with overwhelming guilt over the level of cruelty he'd actually sunk to last night with Kurt. The expression on Kurt's face when the anger fueled lies fell from his lips, it made Blaine feel sick. As much as he tried to reassure himself that it was what he need to do, it was still killing him inside. Blaine knew he wasn't the nicest guy, but he certainly wasn't this cruel, especially when it came to someone as harmless as Kurt.

Blaine had fucked up. Kurt was right. He _was _the one who kissed Kurt first, but was a stupid move. Feelings or not, he couldn't afford to be this stupid again. He couldn't bring Kurt anywhere near the mess he'd made, and he certainly wasn't going to compromise Kurt's safety if Kevin ever found out about him. It was all too dangerous, too risky.

Blaine's mind was barely able to process the fact that Kevin now had people inside the one place he felt even remotely safe. As much as he hated the school, within these walls he never had to worry about all the shit that happened on the outside. Blaine may be locked in, but it also meant all the shit that he'd gotten himself wrapped up in before was locked out.

But now the game has changed. Kevin took the last thing Blaine had, and now there was nowhere safe left for Blaine to hide.

At this point, Blaine should be considering himself a dead man. He and his boys had a slim chance at getting Kevin back, and Blaine himself had a death warrant out with his name on it.

He knew exactly what he was getting into when he picked this fight, and now he needed to follow through.

Blaine had no right to bring Kurt into all of it. Kurt may hate him now, but now at least Blaine knew Kurt was safer this way.

Blaine had already jeopardized the safety of his two closest friends—which wasn't doing his conscience any favors-and if Blaine was spotted showing affection toward another person, he was sure whoever Kevin's rat was would report it back to the head honcho, and Kevin would figure out some way to use it against him. He did it once, Blaine knew he'd have no problem doing it again.

_Fuck_, Blaine hated that son of a bitch.

Blaine sat up and raked his fingers through his mess of curls, cursing quietly to himself as he slowly blinked open his eyes, bracing himself for the midmorning sunlight now shining into the dorm.

Blaine had never stayed in bed this late before, but it was a Saturday and it was probably well deserved considering the night he'd had. Besides, he wasn't ready for the hounding Wes and David will probably give him at breakfast about the note from last night.

Maybe he could just—

"Blaine?"

Blaine looked up to see Kurt staring at him front the other side of the room, the soft voice breaking him from his thoughts.

"You're here…" Kurt breathed out, almost surprised.

Blaine sighed as he figured Kurt thought he'd just disappear in the morning like he usually did. Maybe that way would have been easier, at least they could've avoided this painfully awkward conversation they were about to have.

Blaine closed his eyes, feeling the intensity that was mounting inescapably between them. He could still see the troubled light in Kurt's eyes imprinted in sharp blue behind his own closed eyelids. It had been almost heartbreaking to see. Blaine suddenly felt alarmed. This was exactly what he'd told himself avoid literally minutes before. He needed to stop before he let himself get sucked into this whirlpool of tangled emotions again.

He opened his eyes again, unable to help himself.

The morning sunlight streamed through Kurt's hair, turning it a chestnut-gold. His sharp features were bathed with a warm glow that touched a blush of color to his pale cheeks, and even with the red rimmed, bloodshot eyes, he looked breathtaking.

Blaine turned away quickly, "Well, I live here too, don't I?" he quickly murmured, his voice tired and distant, but not harsh.

"Right…" Kurt said awkwardly, avoiding Blaine's eyes, chewing on his lower lip anxiously.

Kurt was the first to get up, apparently getting over his initial alarm, and quickly gathered up his things and headed off to the bathrooms, glancing back at Blaine one last time before disappearing out into the hall without another word.

Blaine groaned and fell back against his pillows.

It was strange to see Kurt act so quiet. The boy picked a fight with Scarface Skylar his first day over something petty, like a dropped lunch tray or something stupid Blaine couldn't remember, and to be honest Blaine was expecting an outburst of epic proportions after the dick move he'd pulled last night.

He sure as fuck wasn't expecting that incredibly awkward, tension filled conversation-if it even counted as a conversation. Blaine was sort of mentally preparing for some kind of angry reaction, perhaps a slap, some cold words thrown at him at the least.

For some reason, this was much worse.

The fact that Kurt had remained civil was unsettling, dropping the realization that…maybe Blaine _really_ hurt him.

Blaine swallowed as he flashed back to last night, when he'd silently crept back into the room, silently praying that Kurt could spare him until the morning to scream at him some more, but was instead returned to the room to find that Kurt had simply just gone to bed.

Kurt had been perfectly still, not moving, not turning, just tucked up neatly against the wall, back turned toward Blaine. It would have been a very convincing act too, had Blaine not already spent a countless number of sleepless nights listening to Kurt toss and turn—sometimes even humming in his sleep.

Though Blaine would never admit to it, it made his heart ache to know he'd caused that.

Blaine wasn't quite sure how the rest of the weekend was going to go, but he felt like they were treading thin ice at this point.

Blaine grumbled as he hoisted himself up off the bed and grabbed his towel off his dresser.

Maybe he'll just use the second floor bathroom this morning…

* * *

><p>What had happened last night was not something Kurt had anticipated when he told his dad he wanted to stay the week-end at Dalton, and he was beginning to <em>really<em> regret his decision by the time Saturday evening rolled by, spending the entirety of the evening in the dead silent dorm room, alone, with Blaine_. _

The air between them was awkward and tense, and it was hard for Kurt to concentrate on anything but the dark haired boy across the room.

But it wasn't like he had many other options.

There was really nothing to do at Dalton on the weekends. Kurt's library sanctuary was only open on school days, and the only other forms of entertainment were the indoor and outdoor rec areas, both of which repulsed Kurt immensely. The idea of playing ping pong with a six foot five criminal or going out and shooting some hoops with a two hundred and fifty pound drug dealer wasn't exactly incising.

But after what had happened last night, it was getting more and more difficult for Kurt to figure out how exactly he was supposed to react to all of this. He felt confused and hurt, and being here with Blaine wasn't helping much.

Kurt leaned back in his chair and pushed his homework aside, not feeling quite in the mood to do the mediocre math equations anymore. His mind had now been infiltrated by thoughts of hazel eyes and soft lips...cruel words.

The more Kurt thought about it, the more he realized what pained him the most, besides Blaine's harsh words constantly echoing in his mind every time he even _glanced _over at him, was the fact that Blaine didn't seem fazed by any of it! It was like last night hadn't even happened. As far as Kurt could tell, everything was normal in Blaine's world, well—as normal as it got with Blaine.

He hadn't spoken another word about it—hell, he hadn't spoken another word _period,_ since their small exchanging of words this morning—and he seemed to have simply regressed back to the distant, cold self Kurt had grown accustom to when he'd first come here.

He let his eyes linger over to the other side of the room, resting on the familiar figure lying lazily on his bed, nose buried in yet another book. Part of Kurt wondered if he actually _read _them, or he just held them up in front of his face so no one would bother him.

Kurt turned away and stared idly back at his desk.

It wasn't like Kurt hadn't ever had experience with heartache. It was a feeling he knew well. Finn had been the first, and as sweet as Sam had been with everything, his heart still ached he saw him hand in hand with Quinn, walking down the hall like the perfect couple they'd been.

Kurt's eyes rested on Blaine face, which was pulled into an unreadable distant expression, eyes focused down on the pages of the book he held in his hands.

Kurt let out a half-hearted sigh, and glanced back at the other boy in spite of himself.

It was different with Blaine though, Kurt decided. It was like a whole new level of pain. Maybe it was because Kurt had been foolish enough to think Blaine liked him back. He'd opened his heart, only to have it shot down again—but was he really so crazy for thinking he'd had a chance?

A smile washed over Blaine's face suddenly, and Kurt knitted his eyebrows together.

Kurt rarely saw smiles which weren't tainted by a sneer, a smirk, or that ever-present cold intensity he had. The few smiles he'd seen must have been weeks ago, before everything had fallen apart and became this hostile, tense _whatever_ they had now.

Kurt peeled his eyes away and let his eyes flutter shut.

Was it so bad that Kurt silently wished things could have been different? That the first kiss could have meant something to Blaine, too? That his smiles could be directed at him again? That rare, beautiful smile was something Kurt never realized he'd missed.

Kurt shook the thought out of his mind. That was a stupid thing to wish for.

He stood up and glanced up at the half-read catalogs stacked on top of his wardrobe. Maybe he should just try and work on his spring wardrobe again, it wasn't like he'd gotten the opportunity the other day, and frankly, he could use a distraction right now. Something to take Kurt's mind off, well—everything.

* * *

><p>Blaine smiled as his eyes skimmed across the faded old pages, reading the words he'd practically memorized by heart by now.<p>

Scott Fitzgerald was always a personal favorite of his. It allowed him to explore other people's lives that were _actually _more fucked up than his was. And it distracted him from everything that had been plaguing his mind lately. The exhaustion was getting to him, and it was calming to just sit and read, not having to thing about anything at all, even if it was for just a few hours.

Blaine had initially been intrigued by Fitzgerald's works since he read the _oh so _famous "The Great Gatsby," and decided to give another one of his novels a go. _Tender is the Night, _was an interesting one—kind of predictable—but Blaine found it to be a much more amusing read than he had expected.

He heard a small gasp from the other side of the room and he lowered his book and glanced over to Kurt's side to see the other boy standing on his chair reaching for a something that was stacked at the very top of his tall clothes wardrobe.

Blaine sat up immediately in alarm, glancing at Kurt who was still struggling to reach for his desired object.

_Was he stupid?_ Blaine thought to himself as he climbed off his bed, watching Kurt from behind. Kurt had just gotten out of the hospital wing _last night, _and he was doing _that? _From what Blaine could recall, Kurt had gotten himself pretty wrecked that night, and there was absolutely no way he would be able to—

At that instant, the chair beneath Kurt wobbled a little, causing Kurt to sway a little and fall over, his midriff smacking into the wooden doors of the wardrobe, and causing him to let out a gasp as he grabbed onto the door to keep himself from falling from the chair.

Blaine had materialized beside him in what seemed like seconds and Kurt felt a pair of strong arms ease him down off the chair, as he collapsed to the floor, catching a piercing set of hazel eyes staring down at him.

Kurt groaned, and felt a pulse of pain shoot through the area where his faded bruise was.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Blaine blurted before he could stop himself, frowning as he carefully pulled Kurt up to a standing position, "Do you _want _to go back to the hospital wing again? Is that it?"

Kurt looked away then, but Blaine didn't honestly expect him to answer.

"I'm fine," Kurt murmured, brushing Blaine away, and wobbled over to his bed, panting slightly and clutching his stomach.

Blaine watched Kurt intently as he eased onto his bed with some difficulty and a reluctant grimace. Blaine felt a bit pained as he watched Kurt clench his eyes shut, and bow his head down with a soft groan. He'd been there.

"Should I get a nurse—?" Blaine began, his eyes softening a bit.

Kurt looked like he half wished Blaine hadn't even noticed, hadn't _cared. _Blaine looked into the confused, slightly pained blue-green eyes, and sighed. He didn't have to think too hard to know what Kurt was probably thinking right now. Hot one minute, cold the next. Even Blaine could tell he was sending Kurt extremely mixed signals.

"Really, Blaine…I'm fine," Kurt repeated, leaning down on the bed, "It's nothing."

_Doesn't look like nothing, _Blaine thought to himself.

"Kurt…" Blaine said again, walking towards the other boy cautiously, his eyes narrowed in concern.

Kurt began to flush as Blaine came closer, confusion and embarrassment clear on his face, "Please, just—I'm okay. I promise. It doesn't…it doesn't really hurt." he lied.

Blaine looked at him uneasily, but Kurt forced a weak smile and turned away before Blaine could say another word.

"Yeah…okay," Blaine muttered, glancing at Kurt one last time before padding back to his side of the room.

Blaine flopped back onto his bed. His eyes shifting from the light amusement it had been a few moments ago, into a stormy mix of agitation and distress.

Blaine quickly picked his novel back up from where it was left beside his pillow and forced his eyes back to onto the fading yellow pages of his book—unknowingly spending the rest of the evening rereading the same page over and over again as he struggled to keep himself from glancing back over at the boy just across the room.

* * *

><p>The week goes on, as it always does, both boys just simply trying to get through each new day without anymore incidents.<p>

Blaine got ready and left the dorm before Kurt woke up every morning as he usually did—never wanting to risk another awkward morning encounter—and the two of them went on with their usual routines, not seeing each other until their shared fourth period class.

A teacher had finally been hired to take over Mr. Armstrong's class, and to Blaine's dismay, fourth period now became just another tedious class, with some idiot rambling about things Blaine honestly couldn't care less about.

Kurt seemed like the only student who even bothered to pay attention, but even so, Blaine often found Kurt staring idly out the window or doodling on a piece of paper too—one could only take so much, he supposed.

Blaine wasn't sure why he constantly found his eyes drifting over toward Kurt, they just did, and Blaine didn't even bother to stop himself anymore. The classes was boring as hell anyways, and he didn't have his little posse to entertain him anymore with the newly assigned seats.

There was also that nagging feeling Blaine never seemed to be able to escape—that feeling of if he didn't keep an eye on Kurt, Kurt would somehow find a way to hurt himself, or get into more trouble.

It was an irrational, ridiculous thought, but it was constantly lingering in the back of Blaine's mind in spite of himself.

As soon as the lunch bell went off, Kurt would slip out of the class and head off to the dining hall as quickly as possible, and Blaine wouldn't see him again until the evening, except for a few glimpses during meals every now and again.

They weren't strangers, no. But they weren't exactly friendly either—but what could he expect? Wasn't this exactly what he'd wanted when he'd said—practically screamed—those bitter, cruel words?

Blaine had dug his grave the moment he'd started this war again, and now he had to lie in it. No use dragging even more people in with him.

It was better this way anyways, Blaine rationalized to himself each time Kurt's eyes accidentally met his in the halls, before quickly pulling away. Each time they would accidentally bump into each other in lunch lines, and Kurt would quietly excuse himself and move to a different line. Even when Blaine thought he'd go insane sitting in the deafening silence of their dormroom—neither of them speaking, Kurt never even bothering to play his music out loud—Blaine never said a word. It _was _better this way, it had it be.

The afternoons were pretty bland for Blaine, much like the rest of his day. He usually headed straight back to his dorm after the final bell rang—Wes thought it'd be a good idea not to hang around their usual after school spots in case Kevin's rat was somewhere in their inner circle, and they all knew there wasn't a soul to be trusted at Dalton Academy. Any of Blaine's little followers had the potential to be rats, and Blaine was sure most of them stuck with him only out of fear rather than respect.

Blaine wasn't really up for lingering around anyways. His exhaustion from lack of sleep was leaving him in lethargic, edgy moods that wouldn't exactly make him the most pleasant to be around.

Kurt usually came back to the dorm at five o'clock every evening, pretty much on the dot, presumably wasting his time avoiding Blaine at the library.

They didn't really speak much to each other in the evenings, unless it was necessary. And even so, Blaine noticed that Kurt was careful when he spoke to him, choosing his words carefully as to not cross any lines, but still remain polite.

He was a lot quieter than he'd been just weeks ago, even more so than when he'd first transfered.

This didn't settle well with Blaine for some reason, but at least Kurt wasn't bitter like Blaine had expected him to be—or he hid it exceptionally well if he was.

In time, Kurt even passed him soft smile every once in a while, but Blaine knew they were never genuine, nothing like the eye crinkling, nose scrunching smiles he'd had before—just something quick and forced to keep the tension still ever present between them to a minimum.

Blaine often found himself wanting to make a teasing comment or clever remark at Kurt just to break the silence between them, something like he'd done before, just so he could hear the other boy's laughter again, but Blaine knew he'd lost that right that night he'd kissed Kurt for the second time, and chose those hurtful words to say.

The days went by slowly, and it was getting harder and harder for Blaine to go through each passing day, the plaguing silence growing absolutely unbearable.

_It's better this way_, he was constantly saying to himself, repeating it like a mantra each time he found himself fighting the urge to say something to Kurt—that feeling of remorse never far off in his mind.

Before Blaine knew it Friday had rolled around, and it was the weekend once again. Kurt had packed up his alarmingly large weekend bag and was gone before Blaine had even made it back to the dorm after classes.

Blaine sighed as he glanced over at the Kurt's vacant side of the room, the sinking feeling of emptiness overwhelming him.

Blaine Anderson _hated _Weekends.

* * *

><p>The dining hall crowd was much thinner than usual that evening, many of the students had dispersed earlier, all eager to escape the prison-like confines of Dalton Academy.<p>

Blaine envies them.

He was in one his foulest moods yet, and the fact that both David _and_ Wes still wouldn't shut up about that damn threat from Kevin last week was doing absolutely nothing for his nerves, making him feel more on edge than he'd been all week—which was _really _saying something.

The constant talk of Kevin and secret spies had gone from mildly irritating to now _painfully_ excruciating to listen to.

"—I don't know." David was saying through mouthfuls of some sort of meatloaf, "Ryan's a pussy isn't he? I bet he's the rat. I mean he looks fucking nervous like _all_ the time, you know what I mean?"

"Some guy tried to _set him on fire,_" Wes replied dryly, "Why the fuck _wouldn't_ he be nervous all the time?"

David shrugged, "Hey, I don't know, maybe he was a rat for someone else and they wanted to teach him a lesson!" he ignored Wes's deadpan expression, "People don't just _light people on fire _for no reason, Wes. But it kinda explains why he jumped ten feet in the air last time I offered him a light, eh?

Wes rolled his eyes.

"What about Howard?" David suggested again, "He seems like a shady guy. Maybe he's the rat."

"It's not fucking Howard," Blaine spat suddenly, causing his friends to jump a little, and pushed his plate away in disgust. His appetite hadn't been great lately, and the meat-colored slush just wasn't doing it for him tonight.

"You're not gonna eat that bro?" David asked, eyeing the food on Blaine's plate.

Blaine shook his head, gesturing to David to take it, grimacing as he watched David shovel the slop onto his own plate.

"Look Blaine, the sooner we find out who the rat is, the less of a threat Kevin is to us," Wes murmured, his eyes darting around the dining hall, "We barely stand a chance as it is, the fact that there's someone here _watching_ us...we might as well just give up."

Blaine winced and squeezed his eyes shut. "Yeah, yeah I know. Just sick of fucking hearing about it every second."

"Well what about that weird guy in 3rd period?" David continued to muse, not quite on the same page as his glaring friends, "The guy who's obsessed with Supernatural. Maybe Kevin tricked him into thinking Blaine is some sort of demon, and is luring him into—"

"Shut up, David!" Wes and Blaine said at the same time, eyeing at their friend in irritation.

Blaine buried his head into his hands and tried to block out whatever petty argument Wes and David were getting into right now. He was getting sick and tired of the same old conversations over and over and _over _again. He wished this could all just be _done _and he could finally just relax for a change—maybe finally get a good night's sleep for first time in fucking months.

Blaine glanced over a few tables over, the spot where Kurt usually sat, now empty.

Blaine half expected to see him sitting there alone as usual, just pushing his food around on his plate. Something Blaine seemed to be doing a lot more often lately. He was never too keen on Dalton Academy's food, but after years of the same garbage, he learned to just swallow the food down, like pills.

But Kurt wasn't there. Probably back in Lima by now, with his family and gang of misfit friends or whatever.

Blaine sighed and dragged a hand down his face.

As awful as this week had been, Blaine knew the weekend was going to be much, _much _worse. At least during the week he had classes and a tense dorm room to distract him from all the other messed up things in his life. Weekends would just be Blaine locked in a room with his mind that never seemed to shut up.

He and Kurt may not be speaking much to each other anymore, but Blaine still found comfort in the fact that he was _there_, even if the tension between them had gotten so thick Blaine feared it would snap right before him if he so much as _coughed_.

It may not be the best living arrangement out there, but Kurt gave Blaine something to think about that _didn't_ have anything to do with his possible impending death—and to be perfectly honest, as much as Kurt must hate him right now, there was _still _someone out there that hated him more.

"—Blaine?" Wes repeated, tilting his head at his absent-minded friend.

Blaine blinked a few times and turned to Wes, "What?"

Wes studied his friend carefully, knitting his eyebrows together in concern. "Have you been sleeping lately?" he asked suddenly, looking down at the dark circles underneath Blaine's eyes.

"What the fuck do you think?" Blaine snapped, turning his head away.

"We're just kind of concerned," David added, his expression softening a bit as well.

"Well, don't, I'm _fine, _I just—I hate all this waiting we're doing," Blaine lied bitterly, "We need to get a fucking move on before I go insane."

Wes nodded, though not quite satisfied with his friend's response.

"And quit looking at me like I'm already dead, alright?" Blaine sighed, forcing a smirk, "I'm not as feeble and weak as you bitches seem to think I am."

"Says the guy who let himself get taken down by a fifteen year old with a _pipe," _David snorted, referring to their last encounter with Kevin's crew.

Blaine scowled as he held up his middle finger at his friend, rolling his eyes at his David's playful laughter.

"Shut up, asshole." Blaine growled, muttering something about how the girl had caught him off guard, and how he wasn't expecting Kevin's little group of whores to be there—let alone fighting back.

* * *

><p>The sleepover had been Rachel's idea. It'd been a while since they'd all had a proper girls' night since Kurt had left, and it was decided that they had to catch up on some much needed girl time, without any of the <em>charming <em>interruptions from the boys.

The girls had filled Kurt in on everything that was going on over at Mckinley, with the New Directions and Mr. Shue—the insane schemes Coach Sylvester's got everyone wrapped up in now.

Kurt listened with mild amusement as the girls gossiped about love triangles and new glee club members. Kurt could hardly believe the ridiculous musical numbers Mr. Shue was having them do, or the fact that Mckinley had added a new green apple flavored slushie that was apparently damn near _ impossible _to remove from any cotton-based fabric. His life back at Mckinley seemed like a distant memory, hough it'd been only weeks since he'd left.

As entertaining as it all sounded—and as happy as he was to be surrounded by his friends again—Kurt couldn't quite take his mind off of the one thing he'd hoped he'd be able to forget this weekend.

Rachel was in the middle of saying something about the nail polish color she'd just coated her nails with when Kurt finally decided to speak up.

"—Guys, can I ask you something?" he asked anxiously, fiddling with a loose thread on his comforter.

"Hmm?" Rachel hummed as she blew her fingernails, willing them to dry faster.

She and Kurt were perched on Kurt's bed, while Tina and Mercedes sat cross legged on the floor braiding each other's hair.

"Is everything okay, Kurt?" Mercedes asked.

"Yeah, you've been kind of quiet all night." Tina added, looking over at Kurt with concern.

Kurt hugged a pillow to his chest and took a deep breath. He'd been contemplating telling them about the whole Blaine thing. Keeping it bottled up in his head was slowly driving him insane all week—and the fact that he was isolated in a dorm with only _Blaine _for company didn't exactly help.

"I—I was just wondering…" Kurt began, letting his eyes fall to the plush off-white pillow in his arms, "Does a kiss really mean—does it mean…_?_"

Kurt knew he wasn't exactly an expert when it came to all this, the girls were probably the closest thing to help on boys he could get. He'd contemplated maybe asking Santana—but he was actually quite worried about what she'd say to him. And well, from his short-lived relationship with Brittany, it was probably best not to ask her any advise about this either.

Kurt could see his friends staring at him with wide eyes from the corner of his eye, Mercedes' jaws hanging open in shock.

Maybe he _shouldn't _have said anything. He knew they would immediately jump to—

"Oh my God. Are you and Blaine—" Rachel started to say.

Yeah, he knew it.

"—No, no, no, it's not like that," Kurt sighed and buried his face in the pillow, "Yes, he _kissed _me, but I don't think…" he trailed off.

"Boy, look at me!" Mercedes ordered, reaching over and pulling the pillow out of Kurt's grasp, "Tell us _everything._"

Kurt shot his friends a weary look, "I don't…I don't really know…"

"How could you not know?" Tina asked, "He kissed you! And you like him right? It's not like we haven't _noticed__._"

Kurt groaned, feeling his cheeks starting to heat up. How was he supposed to explain this? They wouldn't understand. Hell, _he _barely understood. He and Blaine had been treading thin ice all week, and Kurt didn't exactly know how to handle it. Even though Blaine had made his feelings perfectly clear, things still felt _weird_ between them_. _

"It doesn't matter if I like him or not—He doesn't feel _that way _about me…" Kurt murmured softly, with a sad smile.

"But he kissed you?" Rachel asked.

Kurt nodded, and chewed on his lip, "It happened so _suddenly, _and _fast _the first time, but then after…" Kurt wasn't sure if he was quite ready to revisit last Friday night's events so soon."

"Kurt, I know I don't have as much experience with boys but…it sure sounds like he likes you," Mercedes said with a soft smile.

"Yeah, but it's not that simple…I don't know. It's just kind of hard to tell with him—he's umm..." Kurt looked confused for a moment as he struggled to find the right word, "_intense_...I guess?"

Rachel raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Kurt with a small smile.

"He's _intense_?" she repeated, her grin slowly turning into a smirk.

"Yeah, you know, he's really—" Kurt looked up to see the girls all suppressing giggles, and he rolled his eyes, "Oh come on! Get your heads out of the gutter!" Kurt looked somewhat flustered at their implication, "I meant that he's _intense, _intense."

Kurt sighed looked up at them, "_Scary, _intense."

Noting the distress on Kurt's face, the girls' expressions shifted into sudden looks of concern.

"Wait, what do you mean, _scary _intense?" Mercedes questioned, reaching out to take Kurt's hand in hers. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course," Kurt said quickly, "I mean, he's not _dangerous_ or anything...I don't think." Kurt momentarily flashed back to the Dalton hallway, himself pinned against the wall, with Scarface's hands at his throat. He could remember the way Blaine's voice had echoed loudly down the hall, and saw that dangerous glint in his eyes when he saw him standing at the end of the corridor, hands clenched into fists. He remembered the way Blaine had cornered Scarface—a boy twice his size—into the corner. He couldn't recall much after that, almost loosing consciousness by then, but he somehow had the blurry image of Blaine punching Scarface in the face, followed by a loud thud as he hit the floor…and then it all went black "...he would never hurt me. I mean, he _saved _me…but, I still don't know. It's all just..I don't know."

Kurt sighed. He really didn't know how to explain it.

"But, anyways, it doesn't matter." Kurt said quickly, "Kiss or no kiss I don't think he likes me. He—he sort of made that clear."

"Kisses don't often happen for no reason, Kurt. Maybe he...maybe he just hasn't figured out his feelings yet," Tina tried, noting the sullen look that had fallen over Kurt's face.

"Well, see, the second kiss was—" Kurt had started to say.

"—WHOA, Who's kissing you?"

Kurt and the girls jumped when the bedroom door flung open and they saw Puck, Finn and Mike Chang standing at the doorway. Puck was grinning wildly at them, as he strode into the room, lifting his eyebrows a few times at Kurt.

"You're kissing reform school dudes?" Finn asked, furrowing his eyebrows together, echoing Puck's sudden outburst.

"Finn!" Rachel gasped.

"Are you guys eavesdropping?" Kurt demanded, narrowing his eyes at the intruders, his cheeks heating up from anger and embarrassment.

Puck shrugged, "We thought we heard a pillow fight coming on from Finn's room and thought we'd come check it out."

Finn shuffled in the door way, avoiding Kurt's glare.

"Sorry, we just—sort of passing by, and he overheard—wait—who are you kissing anyways?" Finn asked, looking at Kurt with a stern expression, "It's not that naked dude is it, because—"

"Oh hey, you and Blaine finally got together?" Mike Chang smiled, flashing Kurt a genuine smile.

"Hell yeah baby! Get some Hummel!" Puck added, casually throwing himself onto the bed to give Kurt a fist bump.

Kurt groaned and fell back on the bed, burying his head beneath a pillow.

"Okay, no. All of you best get out of this room right now before one of you gets slapped!" Mercedes threatened, eyeing Puck in particular, and then over to the boys lingering in the doorway.

"Yeah seriously, it's creepy!" Tina added on, shooting her boyfriend a glare.

"Finn, just because you and your friends are hanging out here doesn't mean you get to let them eavesdrop on our conversations!" Kurt hissed, peeking out from beneath his pillow, his eyes narrowed at his stepbrother.

"Bro, relax," Puck laughed, "We're just celebrating you finally getting some ass!"

Finn shifted at the doorway awkwardly, "Well, actually I don't think you should be kissing any of those Dalton kids. Aren't they all like criminals? I don't think Burt would like that."

"Finn, I understand your concern since Kurt is your stepbrother, but you don't fully understand the situation," Rachel said sternly to Finn, patting Kurt supportively on the shoulder, "And it _is_ really creepy that you guys are eavesdropping…"

Kurt groaned and pulled the pillow over his head again. "Get out!" His muffled voice yelled from beneath the plush linen, "NOW!"

_Yeah. He really should have just kept this all to himself,_ Kurt thought with a groan.

* * *

><p>Blaine traced the patterns on the dorm room ceiling, staring idly as his eyes traced every crack and crevasse with little interest.<p>

He'd barely left the room all weekend, not that he didn't want to. In all honestly, anywhere else was better than wallowing in his own self-loathing in this tiny little room, all alone. But there was nowhere else to go. He couldn't be seen with Wes and David anymore without the Warden getting suspicious, and frankly he just didn't like the company of any of the other boys at the school. He couldn't trust any of them anyways with Kevin's rat running around.

Blaine sighed and sat up, his eyes flicked over to the other side of the dorm room, almost on instinct.

Blaine wasn't going to lie, it felt lonely without Kurt there.

Sure, maybe a few weeks ago, Blaine would have killed to have the room to himself. After Liam, Blaine didn't think he'd be able to stand another person sharing the room with him, but for some odd reason, Kurt was_ different_. They'd barely spoken a few words to each other in the last week, but Blaine still took comfort in the fact that he was _there._

There was no point in avoiding it any longer. Blaine knew there was something there. Something more than the friendly roommate relationship Blaine had been fooling himself with before.

Blaine leaned back on the bed, dragging a heavy hand over his face.

He couldn't have _feelings _for Kurt, all things considering. Blaine simply couldn't afford to put himself in such a vulnerable position again, not after last time. Not after he'd lost Liam.

—and it wasn't like Blaine was relationship material anyways. He'd never been anyone's _boyfriend _before.

Kurt probably wanted one of those serious, hand holding, dinner and movie on a Friday night, lovey-dovey boyfriends—and Blaine _definitely _wasn't one of those. Blaine didn't know how to do _any _of that. His past relationships often consisted of his climbing out a bedroom window, or back into the front seat of his car. Blaine didn't exactly think those were what other people pictured as _romantic._

Blaine rolled over, hugging a pillow to his face.

Kurt was supposed to be just the distraction. The one he teased and prodded at to take his mind off of everything else. Kurt was supposed to be the innocent one, oblivious to Blaine's world, oblivious to everything that made Blaine toss and turn at night. He was the one other person in this shithole who wasn't trying to kiss up to him, or discuss fight plans with. Kurt was supposed to be his escape from reality.

Blaine was never supposed to _like _him or have _feelings_ for him, orwhatever this was.

A muffled groan escaped from behind the pillow.

This just wasn't how it was supposed to go. Blaine wasn't supposed to find out that Kurt's favorite designer was the late Alexander McQueen(how did Blaine even know he was dead. He didn't even know the man existed until a few weeks ago), or that he unconsciously hums show tunes when he's doing his homework (recently he seems to be fond of the Evita soundtrack). Blaine wasn't supposed to notice how Kurt drank obsessive amounts of coffee (almost unhealthy amounts, really), and that he was probably once a cheerleader of some sort—judging from the photographs of him doing a high kick thing on his dresser, surrounded by a group of similarly dressed girls.

Blaine didn't even realize when he'd started to think about Kurt so often, or when he'd started to _miss _him when he wasn't there. Not to mention the ever-present feeling of anxiety that Kurt would somehow manage to get himself into another fight, or find a way to injure himself again.

Blaine shook his head and quickly sat up, feeling slightly lightheaded as the blood rushed from his head.

He needed to fucking pull himself together.

* * *

><p>Sunday evening had finally come around, marking the end of the weekend, much to Kurt's destain.<p>

Finn carefully eased the car against the curb pulling up to the drop off area Burt had used the previous times they'd dropped Kurt off. Once he'd properly pulled the car to a stop he nodded at the other passengers, and they all began to pile out of the car. Tina, Rachel, Puck and Mercedes had decided to come along to see Kurt off.

"Wow, this place _does_ look like a prison…" Tina said uncomfortably, as she stepped out of Finn's car after Mercedes, and looked up at the grey walls of the reform school.

"Yep," Finn agreed, tossing his keys in his hands idly as he came around the other side, glancing up at the school.

Kurt sighed and climbed out of the car after her, slamming the door shut. The weekend had gone by faster than he'd thought.

"Scary looking people too," Rachel added, walking up behind Kurt, looking over at a heavily pierced boy lingering by the main drop off area.

"I don't know…I kind of like it," Puck said with a smirk, flashing a cheeky smile at one of the guards.

"Oh, shut up. I heard how damn scared you were at Juvie…" Mercedes said, rolling her eyes, "And _yes, _Artie told me…"

Puck muttered something under his breath, and ignored the satisfied smirk on Mercedes' face.

"You alright, Kurt?" Rachel asked, looking over at Kurt who was looking pretty grim as he grabbed his stuff from the trunk and pulled his overnight bag over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine—not too excited about being back, I guess…" Kurt replied, and forced a smile in her direction.

"Hey! Come on, you get to come back to your main squeeze!" Puck said with a smile, tossing his arm around Kurt casually, and squeezing his shoulders, "That can't be all bad, am I right?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, hiding his smile as he struggled in the other boy's grip.

"Get off me, Puckerman" Kurt said as he squirmed, "and quit saying stuff like that, I told you it wasn't like that."

"Riiiiight," Puckerman said sarcastically, shooting the girls a smirk, only to receive more eye rolls from them.

* * *

><p>"Blaine, you need a light?" David offered, seeing the unlit cigarette hanging from his friend's mouth, and holding out his lighter for him.<p>

"What?" Blaine murmured, turning back to face the other boy, blinking away the distant look in his eyes.

The trio was hanging around near the main entrance Sunday evening as other students were getting dropped off after the weekend, taking advantage of the low security to meet up together outside the confining, and heavily guarded dining hall walls.

Unlike Blaine, David and Wes had managed to avoid enough trouble to still be allowed weekends every once and again, but they rarely left, preferring to just stay and wreck havoc with their friend—Unfortunately that hasn't really been the case for staying since last December—things were never the same once Liam was gone.

"Dude, what the hell is your problem lately?" Wes asked with a trace of concern in his voice.

Blaine shook his head and leaned into David's lighter, watching the cigarette butt glow red before pulling away. He took a few drags and felt himself starting to loosen up and relax a little bit. He pulled his leather jacket tighter around himself, feeling a brisk chill blow by and turned back to the other two, still staring oddly at him.

"It's nothing, alright?" he sighed, "I've just been a little out of it lately."

"We've noticed..." David replied dryly, leaning back against the chain-linked fence, rolling his own cigarette between his fingers, "I swear you just need to get laid or something. Your edginess isn't exactly making us feel all that comfortable either, you know?"

Blaine sighed and watched the blur of smoke disappear into the cool February air.

"Getting some ass is the least of my worries right about now," Blaine snapped irritably, "I don't know why you even keep bringing it up. You that interested in my dick?"

David laughed and tossed his cigarette onto the pavement, crushing it beneath his heel, "I'm just watching out for you bro. How about that roommate of yours. Kinda cute, if you're into that kinda thing, right?"

"Shut the fuck up," Blaine spat, glaring at his friend.

"What? He's right over there!" David said defensively, nodding in the direction of the drop off parking lot.

Blaine turned around to see Kurt standing out by a car with a pack of other _colorful_ looking people. Three girls Blaine recognized from the photos from the dorm, the freakishly tall stepbrother Kurt used to have a crush on, and the other guy with the Mohawk.

"Looks like someone beat you to the punch though," Wes smirked, glancing over to where David and Wes were looking, eyeing the boy with his arms wrapped tightly around Kurt.

Blaine narrowed his eyes at the tan boy who'd pulled Kurt into a tight embrace, looking like he was squeezing the life out of Kurt, attempting to give him a noogie while Kurt squirmed away.

"Guess little Kurtsie's into the butch kind, huh?" David quipped, punching Blaine in the arm. Blaine didn't flinch, his eyes still narrowed toward the north parking lot.

"Blaine?" David repeated, waving his hand in front of Blaine's face.

Blaine scowled.

* * *

><p>"So when do I get to meet the boyfriend?" Puck teased, leaning down to face Kurt.<p>

"He's not my boyfriend!" Kurt snapped, sending a genuinely shocked Puck to back off for a moment, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Rachel and Tina flinched a bit at Kurt's raised voice.

"Okay, okay, sorry Hummel—just trying to…lighten the mood," Puck said cautiously, looking over at Kurt hesitantly.

"Kurt, are you _sure _you're okay?" Finn asked.

Kurt released a faded sigh and leaned against the car door, willing the oddly loud thuds in his chest to simmer. He knew that Puck's intentions had been completely innocent and his reaction had been too defensive, but he was just feeling on edge being back to Dalton again, back to _Blaine _again.

"Yeah, I—I'm just…I'm sorry Puck," Kurt muttered, leaning back against Finn's car.

Puck shrugged, "Dude! Relax!" he said as he slung his arm around Kurt again, "You know I'm just kidding—sort of…"

Kurt sighed, and forced a smile. "It's okay," he muttered back, rolling his eyes playfully as Puck gave his shoulders another squeeze, pulling them closer together.

"—HEY! Get off of him!"

Kurt whipped his head around so quickly he almost lost his balance, recognizing that voice immediately. He could feel his chest begin to pound furiously in his chest as soon as he saw the familiar face, his eyes meeting those of dark hazel.

"Blaine?" Kurt gasped angrily once he'd found his voice. "What are you—?"

Blaine didn't even bother to look over at him. His eyes were instead focused on Puck, glowering darkly at him. His features were twisted into an odd mixture of scorn and resentment, and something else that Kurt couldn't quite identify that made his breath clog in his throat.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Blaine spat at the tanned boy between clenched teeth, and Kurt noticed then how tense his muscles were.

All eyes were on Blaine now, innocent eyes staring in shock, mouths hanging open in disbelief and mild fear. Kurt could feel his face flush with a mix of embarrassment and rage, and he gritted his teeth in anger.

Puck burst out laughing, and looked over at Kurt. "Oh my god. _This _is the guy isn't it? _This _is Blaine?"

Blaine growled.

Puck stepped to the side, letting his hands slip from Kurt's shoulders, and put his hands up in mock surrender, "Oh, dude, don't even worry—I wasn't doing _anything._ Buddy, trust me, I love my boy Kurt but he's all your—"

"Puck!" Kurt yelped, staring daggers at the other boy.

Puck continued to laugh, and looked Blaine up and down, a smirk growing on his face.

Finn shifted uncomfortably beside Puck, trying to decide whether or not to interfere—obviously not enjoying the way this pseudo-conversation was going. "Um, look man," He said uneasily, stepping toward Blaine, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "We don't mean any trouble. We're just saying goodbye to out friend, Kurt."

Blaine ignored him, his eyes still narrowed at the boy with the Mohawk.

"Blaine, stop it!" Kurt hissed, shooting a glare between Puck and his apparently insane roommate. He knew that look. Blaine had that same intense look he'd had in the lunch room the time Kurt had almost picked a fight with Scarface—if Puck continued to push his luck, the look might flare up into the look Blaine got when he actually _hurt _Scarface.

"He's so short!" Puck exclaimed, gesturing to Blaine as he continued to laugh, ignoring the intensity that was currently radiating off the other boy. "I mean look at hi—"

In one quick movement, before Puck even had a chance to finish his remark, Blaine had pushed him back and pinned him back against the car, his arm pressed up against his neck, holding him down with surprising force.

"What did you say?" he growled.

"Blaine!" Kurt all but screamed, as he and Finn attempted to pull him off the taller boy.

"What the hell man?" Puck grumbled as he pushed himself up off the car after Finn and Kurt had successfully pried Blaine off of him, "Somebody's sensitive…" he muttered, rubbing at his back where Blaine had slammed it against the metal truck.

"Blaine!" Kurt hissed, grabbing Blaine's arm, "What is the _matter _with you?"

Blaine kept his eyes on Puck, barely budging as Kurt tugged at his arm, attempting to steer him away from his alarmed friends.

"You have something to say, Mohawk?" Blaine challenged, narrowing his eyes.

Puck knitted his eyebrows together, apparently still not too worried about the death glare he was getting from the reform school boy. He stared Blaine up and down nonchalantly, "Relax triangle brows. I'm not into that whole…_penis_ thing. You seriously need to freaking calm—"

"Puck, _shut up!_" Kurt said exasperatedly.

Blaine stared at the taller boy with a look of confusion and disgust, as if not completely sure what he was saying. But blaine didn't have time to say another word, before Kurt was pulling him away again.

Blaine glanced menacingly back at Puck one last time, his eyes pausing to scoff at the boy's ridiculous haircut.

"Blaine!" Kurt said again, yanking on his arm.

Blaine let out a low groan and finally peeled his eyes away from Puck and let Kurt pull him away, ignoring the looks Kurt's wide-eyed friends were now giving him, and the pathetic apologetic looks Kurt was shooting back as he lead them back to the main building.

* * *

><p>"Are you <em>insane?" <em>Kurt screamed as soon as he'd dragged Blaine back into their dorm, tossing his overnight bag on the floor and slamming the door behind them. "What the hell is the matter with you? You've made it _perfectly _clear that you and I are _nothing_, and then you go and pull a stunt like that?" Kurt's eyes were blazed with a blue fire Blaine hadn't seen in a long while, "Is there something I'm missing, Blaine?"

Blaine was at a loss for words.

Kurt was staring impatiently at him, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

"I don't know…" Blaine muttered, looking away.

Kurt narrowed his eyes, "What?"

"I don't know, all right?" Blaine snapped back, "I just—I saw that Mohawk guy messing with you and I—"

"And you thought you could just prance over and shove him against a car?" Kurt cut in furiously.

"That not what I meant—"

"Then tell me!" Kurt cut off sharply, "Because I sure as hell have no idea what's going on with you! I don't want you thinking I need you to be my knight in shining whatever. I'm perfectly capable without your help."

"Fuck, Hummel! I'm _sorry._" Blaine blurted out,"I just didn't want to see you get your ass kicked again, alright?" Without considering the implications of his words, Blaine continued to rant. "I'm not really in the mood to put up with your painful groaning and shit all week again! You're not the only one who has to live in this damn room!"

Blaine regretted the words as soon as they slipped from his mouth.

Kurt didn't even flinch.

"You need to sort out your feelings, Blaine, because I _really _don't know how to deal with it anymore…it's too confusing," Kurt's voice had dropped to a whisper, and he shook his head, "And…I'll try to keep my _groaning _to a minimum."

Blaine watched as Kurt turned on his heel and crossed to his side of the room without so much as a sideways glance at Blaine and began unpacking his bag, neatly taking out his clothes, and hanging them back to where they were in his wardrobe.

Blaine padded over to his side of the room, and eased down onto his own bed, Kurt's words still echoing in his mind.

_You've made it _perfectly _clear that you and I are _nothing_, and then you go and pull a stunt like that?_

Kurt was right. He's made it _painfully _clear what his feelings were—or what they were _supposed _to be, at least. The revelation hadn't quite hit him when he'd decided to say what he'd regrettably said.

It wasn't a mistake—_cruel, _yes—but it wasn't a mistake. He couldn't let Kurt know how he felt. It would only do more harm than good. What scared Blaine was the fact that it was all getting harder and harder to control. His emotions were conflicting with rational thought, and he suddenly found himself doing reckless, completely mindless things.

What had happened this evening—it was jealousy.

And it was a feeling Blaine _loathed_. Because it meant that his fostering feelings toward Kurt were getting stronger, despite his efforts to push them away.

Blaine turned and sank down into his bed and let out a haggard sigh.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

* * *

><p><strong>Soooo…What did you think? Leave a review!<strong>

**I personally don't think I'm too great transitioning from scene to scene with this chapter, so it's a little choppy. My apologies! It's just a lot of stuff to cram into one chapter xD**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Hello! Hope you're enjoying the fic (: Your reviews are so lovely! Thank you guys so much! I'm sorry I've been kind of busy lately and haven't been able to update as quickly as I would like to. I will try not to have such a large gap in between updates. Thanks for sticking with me anyways ^.^**

**Warnings: Language, references to violence and sex**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee!**

* * *

><p><strong>Risk It All<strong>

**Chapter 9**

_Kurt's hands were sliding up his arms, leaning in close, whispering words against his lips, intoxicating him. His slender fingers were trailing teasingly along the blade of his shoulder, pushing away his clothes, letting them drop carelessly onto the floor. The heat of Kurt's palms against his bare skin was making him shiver, slowly moving up until they were stroking across his chest. He could feel the subtle breath against his cheek before Kurt's lips were on his, kissing his mouth with a tenderness that melted all the bitterness within him, filling him with such wonderful warmth. He was groaning softly in response, helpless with pleasure, and Kurt's tongue running slowly along his lower lip, nipping at it playfully. His own hands were moving to link themselves around Kurt's neck, drawing them closer and closer until—_

_There was this ringing…what was that ringing?_

"Blaine…_"_

_Was someone calling his name?_

"Dude, wake the fuck up…"

_David? What the hell was he—_

"**BLAINE!"**

Blaine sat up in alarm, whipping his head around in confusion. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest, and he could feel a thin layer of cold sweat causing his white cotton uniform shirt to cling tightly to his body and bead into small droplets on his forehead.

_Damn, that one was vivid._

"Dude…did you sleep through the entire fucking class?" Wes smirked, raising an eyebrow at his bewildered friend.

Blaine glanced around to see an empty classroom, slowly blinking out of his dream-like haze and back to reality. The room was empty except for their teacher, who was adjusting his toupee at his desk, staring intently at his reflection in the computer monitor, and ignoring the three students still lingering in the back of the classroom.

"_Jesus…" _Blaine breathed out, raking his fingers through his hair, and took a steadying breath in an attempt to compose himself.

_Yeah, that one was _really _vivid._

"Don't sweat it bro, i'm sure he didn't go over anything _important _or anything…" David reassured his friend with a laugh, clapping his hand on the shorter boy's shoulder.

"David, you're not even in this class…" Wes deadpanned.

David shrugged.

"C'mon, let's go grab lunch…guards are probably starting to line the halls, and I'm seriously not in the mood to get questioned for being seen with you two bastards in an empty hall again…" Wes said, rolling his eyes as he moved toward the door. "Besides, Mickey says he has something to say to us at lunch."

Blaine made a move to get up, but his breath hitched as soon as he felt an uncomfortable tightness in his uniform slacks.

_Damn it, _he cursed silently to himself.

David followed after Wes who'd already disappeared out into the hall.

"You coming, Blaine?" David called over his shoulder.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it._

"I'm not hungry!" Blaine yelled quickly after them, standing up awkwardly, wishing the damn uniform blazers were just a little longer so that his hard-on wouldn't be so fucking obvious.

"I'll just see you guys fifth!" Blaine called, his voice cracking a bit.

"Whatever!" a pair of muffled voices chorused, already halfway down the corridor toward the dining hall, "We'll fill you in later. It's probably nothing anyways!"

Blaine groaned as he stood up—now _painfully_ aware of his erection—and cautiously made his way out of the classroom. He ignored the odd looks the balding teacher was now giving him as he made his way past his desk and uncomfortably sidestepped out the door, and into the main hallway.

He ducked past two guards that were walking down towards the dining hall, and snuck down the corridor back toward the dorm rooms.

He shook his head, and took a few steadying breaths as he climbed the stairs up toward the third floor dorms.

Contradicting thoughts and emotions had begun to cloud his mind, making Blaine feel tired and irritated. The feelings were getting damn near impossible to ignore, and he knew he couldn't fight them much longer. Even his fucking _subconscious _was thinking about Kurt.

That was the fourth Kurt related _dream_ he'd had this week alone—and to be blatantly honest, they were really making it more and more difficult for Blaine to even _look_ at Kurt now—or look _away, _more like it.

The fact that they stayed in the same fucking room together practically every day made things all the more hard on Blaine…_literally._

Blaine had to admit he'd caught himself staring at Kurt quite a bit over the past few days—okay a little _more _than a bit. Whether it was during class, passing through the halls, at meals—it was nearly _unavoidable_ when they were both at the dorm together. It was slowly driving Blaine insane. He was constantly finding his eyes wandering over to Kurt's side of the room, unconsciously peering over to tall slender figure usually perched on his bed, or lounging in an armchair flipping through his magazines or doing homework.

Blaine had caught himself staring on several occasions. _Kurt _even caught him staring the other day. Blaine winced a bit as he flashed back to that uncomfortable moment.

* * *

><p><em>Jesus Christ<em>…_ were those jeans fucking painted on or something? Blaine had thought to himself. He was beginning to wonder just how Kurt even managed to wriggle himself into pants that tight in the first place—it just didn't seem humanly possible._

_His outfit hugged every curve of Kurt's body, accentuating his slender figure. His grey shirt hung low enough to show off his collarbones, and then trailed down to line the firmness of his torso. Blaine could even see a small strip of Kurt's exposed skin peeking out as the shirt rode up from the slightly compromising position Kurt was lying on his bed, reading through his history textbook._

_The way he was stretched out, lying on his side was extremely distracting. _

_Blaine wasn't even aware of how long he'd been staring until he caught Kurt's eyes shift upward, and meet his._

_"What is it?" Kurt asked, propping himself up and shooting Blaine a questioning look._

_The two of them had settled on _somewhat_ civil terms since their incident last week. And though things were far from friendly, neither of them were really up for the tense, hostile thing they'd had going on before, and to be honest, they were both probably too tired to keep it up anyways._

_"What?" Blaine asked absently, his eyes still trained on Kurt._

_Kurt glanced down at his shirt, and back up at Blaine._

_"You've been staring at me for the past half-hour," Kurt replied, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion._

_Fuck…had he been staring that long?_

_"Oh," Blaine replied dumbly, not knowing what exactly to say in this situation, "It was—I don't...it's nothing..." he murmured, and turned away, picking up the book he'd had abandoned beside his pillow._

"_Blaine?" Kurt called out, tilting his head curiously, "Are you—are you okay?"_

"_I'm fine, everything's fine." Blaine replied quickly, pretending to be engrossed in his book._

_He could still feel Kurt's eyes on him, but he refused to look up and meet them._

"_Okay…" Kurt said slowly, glancing at Blaine one last time before turning back to his homework._

* * *

><p>Blaine shook the thought away, still feeling embarrassed about the whole incident, and finally rounded the corner of the end of the third floor hall.<p>

He pushed open the door roughly, shedding his blazer off, casually tossing it on a chair, and began to loosen his Dalton Academy tie. He rolled the sleeves of his white button up shirt up to his elbows, and collapsed onto his bed with a groan, his hard-on still straining through his trousers.

This was so hard...

He tried to shove it away, like he usually did—generally with a cold shower or some off-putting images of that time he accidentally walked in on his grandmother while she was taking a bath—but by this point his head had become way too muddled to resist the pull on his body. The shockingly vivid images of his dream flooded his mind once again, and he gulped down a throaty swallow. He closed his sleep-deprived eyes, and let out a soft moan as the image resonated back into his mind. He succumbed to them quickly, almost too tired to put up a decent fight and too captivated by the fantasies to ignore them.

_He_ was hard...

Blaine would be lying if he said he didn't indulge himself in a sexual fantasy every now and again, but this one was different; _Kurt _was different. It wasn't one of his tall, tan, hard bodied fantasies he'd grown accustomed to. In his head, Kurt was exactly how he should be, with his soft chestnut hair, bright blue-green eyes, soft pink lips…that diva-like smirk gracing his familiar features—it was a look he hadn't seen in a while, and he sort of missed it, he'd always found it rather sexy, to be honest. And his body...well, he had no idea if his imagination matched the subject, since Kurt was still too shy to even _think _about undressing with Blaine present in the room, but he guessed he must be close, judging from the tightness of the many outfits he saw Kurt wear.

The images of hot breath against skin, and fingers trailing down a slender body began running through Blaine's mind once again, and he inhaled a shaky breath as his hand shifted lower.

He was too far gone to listen to the rational voice in his head and realize what exactly he was doing; and any whispers of doubt were kicked aside as the sensitive spot under his stomach twitched, and he hastily unzipped his uniform slacks, pulling them down to his thighs, and unbuttoned the bottom buttons of his dress shirt. Keeping his eyes firmly shut and focusing only on fantasy-Kurt's lips, he grabbed his hard length below his navel, wrapping his fingers firmly around the base of his cock.

_Jesus_...

Blaine needed this. He'd needed this for _awhile_—but he'd never actually allowed himself to give in, to surrender to his forbidden desires…until now—and at this point, he didn't give a flying fuck.

In his head, Kurt's hand had wandered down his thigh as he pressed light kisses to his jaw—Blaine groaned and he tightened his fist and began to pump away his tension. It had been weeks since he'd felt this release and he knew he wouldn't last long, but he didn't care. He didn't give a shit that his head was full with forbidden thoughts of Kurt—his _roommate _Kurt. It didn't matter that the boy was the reason behind his lustful strain right now, nor did it matter that in his fantasy, Kurt was now straddling him, hips grinding against Blaine's as he leaned down to suck little bruises down Blaine's neck, slender fingers tangling themselves into his own curly dark hair.

That image sent him over the edge, and a husky sigh-come-roar thundered out of his throat as the hot fluid splashed across his abdomen. His eyes fluttered open and fantasy-Kurt faded from his mind, leaving him satisfied—if only for a moment—and panting like he'd just ran a fucking mile. His heart was pounding hard against his ribcage as he tried to ride out the afterglow, blinking away some beads of sweat that were tucked between his long eyelashes.

"_Holy fuck…" _Blaine breathed out, sitting up against his headboard, feeling rather flushed and lightheaded from the intensity of his orgasm.

He lifted his hips a little and pulled his slacks into place, zipping them back up and leaned over to his bedside table to grab a few tissues to wipe the come off his stomach. He swung his legs over the bed, hunching over as he dragged a hand down his face.

He let himself sit there for a few more moments, before finally pulling himself up on shaky legs and attempted to fix up his uniform.

He could hear a distant sound of the lunch bell ringing, signaling that it was time to drag his ass through two more hours of pointless classes.

He took one last look at his slightly disheveled self in the mirror, attempted to straighten his lopsided tie, and made his way out the door.

* * *

><p>Kurt maneuvered his way through the halls toward his fifth period class, trying to make his way through the sea of navy and blue blazers and avoid all the hulking boys and heavily tattooed delinquents shoving past him.<p>

He'd noticed Blaine hadn't been at lunch again today, which was odd because it seemed like he was always attached at the hip with his two pals, David and Wes. He felt a twinge of worry at Blaine's absence—not that Kurt was _looking _or anything, but he'd noticed a different boy at the trio's usual table today, the three of them talking in hushed voices.

Kurt sighed, and pulled his bag tighter around his shoulder.

Things were getting exhausting for him. Though the schoolwork at Dalton was very remedial—_even_ in comparison to McKinley, which was really saying something—it was tiring for Kurt to pull himself through the semester of school all alone. He missed his friends, his freedom to wear what he wanted, he missed Glee club, his family…and putting up with Blaine's weird hot and cold personality wasn't exactly making matters easy.

Kurt didn't even know how to act around him anymore. They weren't exactly friends—if they ever were considered _friends, _but at least they were somewhat civil.

Kurt had considered applying for a roommate transfer, hoping that it would perhaps alleviate him from the awkward uncomfortable tension that was constantly putting up with around Blaine. He pushed the idea away almost immediately though. I mean—what would he even write in the "reasons for transfer" part?

While other students could say their roommates were excessively loud, obnoxious sleepers, drug dealers, or were plotting to murder them—Kurt's would simply say _oh I think I've fallen in love with my intense, withdrawn gay roommate who appears to be involved in some violent gang outside of the school and intently refuses to return the feelings._

Kurt stopped abruptly, feeling his heart stop in his chest.

—Wait a minute. Did he just say he was in love with Blaine?

Kurt had never _actually _admitted that to himself before. He'd never even let himself ponder the _possibilities _of that before. He was so used to just pushing his feelings away, telling himself it wasn't going to happen, that it was a ridiculous hope, that he didn't stand a chance. He was so used to hiding away his feelings, too tired of chasing after boys who'd never chase him back.

Kurt took a deep breath, and moved out of the busy hallway and leaned against the nearest wall.

But despite it all, all the cruel words, all the shed tears, Kurt knew that _that _wasn't Blaine. It'd been a while since he'd seen Blaine even remotely in a good mood, but he hadn't forgotten.

He remembered that mischievous smirk, the bright hazel eyes, and the way blaine loved to tease. The boy who'd once listened to him talk about his dark past, without any judgments, and had told him to stay strong, and have courage.

He remembered the broken boy sitting on the bathroom floor, body covered in blood, desperately pushing his pride away to let Kurt help him.

Kurt remembered _Blaine, _the one person in this entire school who'd seemed to care about him, acknowledge his existence. The one person who'd come to his rescue, when no one else did.

Kurt wasn't sure how, or when exactly, but somewhere along the way…he'd fallen in love with Blaine _freaking _Anderson.

* * *

><p>Blaine was absolutely exhausted by the time the final bell rang, and he stumbled absent-mindedly out of the sixth period classroom after Wes and David.<p>

It seemed his sleepless nights were finally beginning to catch up with him, and after his lunchtime activities, followed by two hours of _the _most _boring _classes he's ever had to sit through, he was surprised he didn't fall asleep again.

"Blaine!" Wes hissed, shooting his friend a look over his shoulder, signaling him to follow him.

Blaine contemplated just ignoring him and head back to his dorm and sleep, but the urgency in Wes's voice swayed him otherwise.

"What?" Blaine asked, ducking around the corner after Wes, David trailing not far behind.

Wes took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak.

"Not here..." David murmured, before his friend could say a word, his eyes locked on the group of students passing by, shooting curious looks at the trio.

"Oh my _god_, what the hell is it?" Blaine asked in irritation, leaning against the hallway wall lethargically, and feeling around his pockets to see if he had any cigarettes left.

Wes sighed and looked anxiously around the hall, now crowding with even more students. A few of them blatantly lingered nearby, with obvious intentions to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Blaine spotted a pair of guards looking suspiciously at them a few feet away, and groaned, shoving his pack and lighter back into his pocket. The three of them really weren't supposed to be spotted coercing anymore, either. The guards were fucking minions of the she-devil herself, and they'll probably report it to Harvey as soon as they get the chance.

"Fuck it..." Wes muttered, letting out a breath, and shaking his head. "Just stay in your rooms tonight, I'll leave a note or something. And I'll go talk to Mickey again, get more details..."

And with that, Blaine watched Wes turn on his heel and walk in the opposite direction, shooting equally menacing glares at the guards whose eyes trailed after him.

"_Stay in our rooms tonight…" _Blaine repeated sarcastically, turning to David, "He acts as if we have actual _plans_…"

David shrugged.

Blaine noticed he was much, _much _quieter than he normally was. He was scared, blaine could see it on his face. Did something happen at lunch that he wasn't yet aware of?

"Well _that_ was a waste of time..." Blaine deadpanned, though there was a trace of anxiety in his tone, "I swear to god if this ends up being just another threat or rat speculation…" Blaine shook his head in frustration. He was sure his friends were getting more and more paranoid by the day.

"Yeah..." David replied, glancing over at his friend, "You—you think it's something big then? Like…you think this is _it?_"

"Let's hope to God this is it…" Blaine muttered, "I'm about to fucking drive myself insane with all this pointless waiting."

Blaine shook his head and gave his friend one last look before turning away and headed down the opposite direction back toward the dorms.

* * *

><p>"Kurt, dear," the soft voice called, shaking Kurt out of the blank trance he was in, staring idly at his open magazine fashion magazine. He felt a gently hand rest on his shoulder, and he turned around to see the librarian smiling sweetly at him.<p>

Kurt had come to the library right after school as he usually did—mainly to get whatever little homework he had to do finished, and work on putting together his new spring wardrobe.

"Oh, sorry Mrs. Davenport," Kurt murmured, rubbing at his tired eyes, "I think my mind sort of just wandered off for a moment, can I help you with something?"

The older woman chuckled, "I _really _don't understand how a nice young man like you got yourself into a place like this."

Kurt shook his head.

"Yeah, well, it's the ones that _seem _nice that end up doing the _really _freaky stuff," he replied with a soft smile.

The librarian chuckled.

"Well, it's nearly five o'clock, dear," Mrs. Davenport reminded him, glancing to the clock to the wall, "Almost time to go. Are you nearly finished with…um…?" The librarian tilted her head as her eyes glanced over the open magazine on the table.

"Selecting my spring wardrobe?" Kurt finished for her, looking down at the open magazine. He pointed to a small roll of stickers he'd been using to mark which outfits he'd decided on getting.

"Oh is this what that is?" Mrs. Davenport asked, adjusting her glasses and taking a closer look, "My…men's styles sure have changed since I was young, haven't they?"

Kurt chuckled, "Well, not many men have _my_ spectacular fashion sense."

The librarian smiled.

"Um, actually, would it be too much trouble if I stayed a little bit longer?" Kurt asked hesitantly, "I'm almost finished, I just…there's sort of a _reason _I hang out here after class instead of the rec areas or my dorm."

"Roommate troubles?" The librarian guessed.

"Things are just a little…_tense…_" Kurt replied, shifting his eyes away.

"Well, I have to get home, or Horace will complain into next week about having to wait for his dinner again—but here," The librarian took a small keychain with the library key hanging off it from her pocket, and handed it to Kurt, "Just lock up when you're finished. I trust you Mr. Hummel."

Kurt looked up at her with grateful eyes. "Mrs. Davenport, thank you so much. I really could use an evening to myself. And I promise I'll be out and locked up in like an hour. I just wanted to finish skimming through these other catalogs and I'll be out."

"Sounds fine, dear." The librarian replied, gently rubbing Kurt's shoulder before gathering up her things, and made her way out.

Kurt gave her one last little wave before she disappeared out the door.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus his tired eyes back on his magazine. He hadn't exactly been sleeping too well the past few days, and the stress of choosing the perfect spring wardrobe with his limited budget was starting to get to him. The tension with Blaine wasn't exactly helping either, and it was hard for Kurt to concentrate back at their dorm.

Kurt rested his arms on the library table, and laid his head down, letting his eyes flutter shut, and let his mind finally rest in the calm serenity of the Dalton Academy library .

The library was quiet and warm, and somehow he found his eyelids getting heavier and heavier…

_Maybe he could just rest his eyes for a little bit—then he'd get right back to flipping through Armani's spring line._

Kurt yawned and nestled against his arms, and felt himself gently drift off into sleep.

* * *

><p>Five hours later, and Blaine was pacing back and forth in their dorm room.<p>

Kurt always came back at five o'clock, _always. _The fact that he was now pushing eight was starting to worry Blaine.

Where the fuck would he even _be? _The library closed at five, and the guards began to line the halls at seven, right after dinner—which Kurt had also been absent for—and _if _Kurt had somehow managed to slip out to pick up some more catalogs or a new pair of jeans or something, there was no fucking way he was going to get back on campus…not the _normal _way, at least.

Blaine sighed and planted himself on one of the chairs in the center of the dorm, rubbing his hand over his tired eyes.

Kurt wasn't exactly a helpless person, Blaine was sure of it. He'd seen when Kurt got angry, and the way he snapped when someone pushed him the wrong way. _Hell, _he got in here for pushing a bully down a fucking flight of stairs. But Blaine couldn't help but picture that moment with Scarface weeks ago, and how much pain Kurt had been in, collapsed on the floor, blood dripping from his mouth. Blaine would never forget how terrified he'd been when he saw him there—and it was something Blaine _never _wanted to see again.

And now, Blaine had no fucking idea where he was. What if he'd picked another fight? This part of Westerville wasn't exactly filled with friendly do-gooders. It might actually be _safer _within the walls of Dalton than it was outside. At least there were guards to keep things moderately in control.

Blaine glanced at the door again.

God_, _where the fuck was he?

Kurt had been driving Blaine crazy for weeks now. His emotions all fucked up over Kurt—which was something he hadn't felt in a long, _long _time, and never as strong as this. Kurt was different than any person he'd ever met in his life.

Blaine liked his dry sense of humor, and the way he always seemed to light up a room when he walked in. He loved how on some days his eyes looked blue, while other days a pale shade of green. And now, it seemed even Blaine's body was physically pining over Kurt—which was much harder for him to ignore.

Blaine anxiously stood up and began pacing the floor again, raking his hands through his hair as he glanced at the door every now and again.

He'd spent the afternoon contemplating what he'd do with the situation, not able to come up with a _single _solution to his problem—except ignoring it, which was _definitely _doing him wonders right about now.

Blaine glanced over to the clock on his desk, and sighed.

Was he worrying over nothing? Had Kurt just decided to skip dinner and go take an ungodly long shower? Perhaps he had to go home for some reason and just didn't bother to come back to the dorm to get his things?—Wait no. Kurt never went anywhere without his nightly facial routine stuff, which Blaine could plainly seewas still sitting atop his dresser.

Blaine knew he shouldn't be angry, but he wished Kurt could have at least given him some sort of warning. He knew he really didn't deserve it, but a nice heads up would have been nice.

He hated just sitting around _waiting. _That's all he ever did now-a-days. _Wait._

He growled and folded his hands behind his neck, feeling more and more impatient, the worry building up in his chest.

_Damn it, Kurt. Where the hell are you?_

* * *

><p>Kurt opened his eyes slowly, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the now blindingly bright light in the library.<p>

_Oh crap._

Kurt bolted up, slightly panicking as he glanced out the windows to see that night had fallen and it was probably _way _past curfew by now.

Kurt stuffed all his magazines into his bag and hastily slung it over his shoulder. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and felt his heart skip a beat as he noted the time. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket and quickly stumbled toward the door, trying to fish Mrs. Davenport's key from his bag as fast as possible with fumbling fingers.

He poked his head out of the main library door, looking around to see if there were any guards surrounding the library—_naturally _there were none.

Kurt let out a breath of relief and silently slipped out of the library, and locked the door behind him.

Luckily there was absolutely _no _guards anywhere near the east wing where the library was situated, so it was easy for Kurt to get back to the dormitories.

He swiftly made his way up the three flights of stairs, and rounded the corner toward his room at the end of the hall.

Part of Kurt hoped that Blaine would be asleep by now, or at least lounging on his bed _pretending _to be asleep.

Since his sudden _revelation _this afternoon, Kurt wasn't sure how he'd even act around Blaine anymore, and he certainly didn't trust himself to be too equipped to handle all the hostile tension between the two of them after such a long day.

Kurt took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

He spotted Blaine immediately, perched on the edge of his bed.

"Blaine?"" Kurt called out, surprised his roommate was still up, and squinted over at him as he tried to see in the dark room, "...You're still up?" he murmured—mostly to himself—and closed the door behind him.

Kurt strained to see the dark figure sitting hunched over on the bed, hands tangled in his hair.

"_Fucking finally,"_ Blaine muttered, pulling himself up, and glaring over to where Kurt was standing in the doorway. His eyes were burning bright in the dim room as he moved towards Kurt, eyes narrowed at the dazed boy in the doorway.

"Where the hell have you been?" Blaine growled, "Do you know what _time _it is?"

The flames of hazel in his eyes glowed with such an intensity, it caused Kurt's heart to leap and race a little faster in his chest.

Kurt swallowed nervously, a bit taken aback by the intensity in his eyes.

"I was just at the library. I think I accidentally fell asleep and I…um—" Kurt trailed off, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion as Blaine kept walking closer towards him.

"Um, why were you—" Kurt began to ask, taking a cautious step back, feeling his back press up against the closed door.

Blaine cut him off, and without warning, grabbed his face and snatched his lips into a desperate kiss. He sighed shakily against Kurt's mouth, finally releasing the torturous feelings of desire he'd had pushing at him for days, the rush of release now flooding his body.

"Don't _ever_ do that again…" Blaine whispered, pressing their foreheads together. Kurt barely had time to force a nod before Blaine was catching his mouth again, bring their lips together for another kiss.

To say Kurt was alarmed would be an understatement. Once again, Blaine had completely caught him off-guard, and he was unsure of how to react. He could feel Blaine's soft lips move against his as he remained pinned to the door, feeling the sparks of electricity pulsing through him as felt the familiar sensation of the other boy's mouth on his. And though every bit of logic and reason in his mind told him to stop, every fiber of his being told him not to…and truth was—Kurt really didn't want to.

His response was timid and cautious, but he didn't push Blaine away, and that was enough for Blaine, and he shoved Kurt back roughly, unable to help himself. Kurt tried to keep up with him, kissing back, shivering as he felt Blaine's teeth graze over his lower lip, clutching onto his arms with trembling fingers. Blaine's hands drifted up his cheekbones and into Kurt's light brown hair, coaxing a moan from him that made Blaine's hips twitch.

Blaine pressed himself against Kurt as much as he could, dragging his fingertips down his neck, shoulders, and ribs to settle possessively at his sides. He groaned as Kurt ran his fingers down his neck, making him shiver in a way he'd never felt before, and Blaine wanted more—desperately _craved_ for it.

Blaine tore his mouth away and moved down to Kurt's throat, pleasantly surprised when Kurt rolled his head back and sighed in apparent bliss. Kurt's grip on his strong arms tightened as Blaine found a sensitive spot on his jaw that made him moan loudly, tantalizing Blaine further.

With The pounding of his heart roaring in his ears, Kurt forgot how to think, and simply let himself _feel_. He lost all sense of everything except the warmth of Blaine's mouth on his, and the way Blaine's fingers around his jaw, slightly tilting his face to deepen their kiss. It was feverish, and desperate, and nothing like Kurt could have ever imagined in his _wildest _dreams.

"Tell me to stop," Blaine mumbled against Kurt's skin, barely audible as he trailed nips down Kurt's collarbone.

Kurt swallowed hard but didn't utter a word to sway Blaine otherwise. He was too lost in the immense heat and passion, in these newly discovered sensations that were completely foreign to him. At this point, stopping was the last thing Kurt _ever_ wanted to do. He was vaguely aware that Blaine was starting to undress him, pulling off his blazer, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt with incredible speed, while talented hands were felt tugging at his pant-line, fingers fumbling with the belt. He heard his blazer fall to the floor with a soft thud, just as Blaine was lifting his head to steal his lips again, his warm and eager fingers pushing Kurt's shirt open, warm hands running up his smooth stomach and up towards his chest. Kurt's hands dropped to rest against Blaine's chest, his fingers tracing curiously at his collarbone and neck.

"Tell me to stop," Blaine hissed out, more urgently this time, still nipping at Kurt's jaw.

Blaine's hands grazed upwards until his thumbs stroked the bare skin of Kurt's torso, Kurt's shirt was barely hanging off his shoulders by now, his fingers slowly running down Blaine stomach, eliciting a deep growl from his throat.

Blaine felt himself harden as Kurt's hands went lower. Kurt was unsure if it was the right move, but he did it anyways on heated impulse.

—That was when everything finally dawned on Blaine, smacking him hard in the face, and pulling him back into reality.

"TELL ME TO STOP!" Blaine screamed, pulling himself away from Kurt so quickly and so frantically he nearly stumbled to the dorm room floor, his eyes dark, and his lips a deep shade of red from their heated kissing.

Kurt felt all his limbs go weak, and he slid gracelessly down the door, studying Blaine intently and anxiously, trying to pull his shirt closed as best he could with trembling fingers.

Blaine looked broken and battered, like all his energy was being used to refrain himself from going back to Kurt, to keep himself from kissing him again, to keep himself from _touching _him again. Kurt slowly raised his head and they locked eyes—both pairs scared and open wide.

"Why didn't you tell me to stop?" Blaine growled accusingly. "Are you fucking stupid, Hummel? How far were you even going to let that go?"

Kurt was still in a state of stunned shock, his mouth slightly parted open, and stared blankly up at Blaine. Kurt slowly pulled himself up from the ground, leaning against the door for support. He was _scared_. Not only because of what he'd just willingly, _more than _willingly done, but also because even _he_ didn't know how far he would have gone just now. He was too caught up in the moment, in the raw emotion, the desperate _want_ and _lust—_any sort of rational thought had completely flown out the window.

"I—I…um…but you—" Kurt stuttered, his mind not quite able to grasp what had just happened yet.

"Fuck…" Blaine murmured to himself, raking his fingers through his hair, letting his eyes drop to the floor, "What are you are _doing_ to me, Kurt?"

"I didn't…Blaine, wait—" Kurt was still at quite a loss for words, but Blaine, with one more half-glance at Kurt, peeled his eyes away, and quietly turned and walked over to the opposite side of the room. He braced one arm against the wall, and rested his forehead in the crook of his elbow. Something about Blaine's posture stripped him of his usual intensity, and tough attitude, exposing his vulnerability. His defeated silhouette leaned against the wall, his figure barely outlined by the few beams of moonlight streaking in through the open window.

"You're driving me insane Kurt…you're in my head _all _the time, and I don't know what to do…" Blaine muttered, any anger drained from his voice, and he turned his head back to Kurt, looking at him with wary bloodshot eyes, "_God, _I don't know what the hell is the matter with me…"

"Blaine, _stop_." Kurt's voice was surprisingly firm, "It—it's okay. We can talk about this. Can you just stop pushing me away for one second and just _talk_ to me?"

Kurt felt stronger and bolder than he usually did—it was probably the sudden burst of adrenaline still coursing through his veins after that rather heated moment just now.

Blaine turned around, and walked toward Kurt, stopping just a few feet short. His expression was serious, but not at all angry. His eyes flickered to the doorway for a split second, before lifting his eyes back to Kurt.

"Kurt, you don't know me. You don't know what I've done." he replied bitterly, looking down at the floor, "Do you think that was okay? What we just did?" Blaine's eyes were, burning into Kurt as he looked at him, impatiently awaiting an answer.

"I—I don't know Blaine," Kurt answered honestly, "It was sudden and overwhelming. But…" Kurt trailed off and met Blaine's dark, hazel eyes, "But I—I like you, Blaine. If that wasn't obvious…and I think you and I—"

"—No," Blaine cut off quickly, shaking his head. "There is no _you and I. _We can't. We just…_we can't_."

"What?" Kurt repeated, his voice dangerously low, his eyes narrowed in Blaine's direction, his voice cracking from emotion. "Are you seriously going to _pounce on me _and say _that?"_

Blaine looked incredibly tired, his resolve slowly starting to shatter.

"Sorry, I just—I'm really sorry." Blaine murmured, "I shouldn't have done that…_any _of that. It was a mis—"

"Don't—" Kurt cut off, "Blaine, can you honestly look at me and tell me what just happened meant nothing to you? Can you look at me and tell me _all _of it, meant nothing to you?" Kurt's voice was getting louder, his body boldly inching closer, "Do you think I can't see you looking at me all the time? That I don't remember that first kiss and the _ridiculous_ jealousy you had when my friends came to drop me off last week?"

Kurt's eyes were blazing as he moved closer to Blaine.

"I know you Blaine, and this can't mean _nothing_ to you, so just tell me what you're so damn afraid of!" Kurt demanded without so much as a flinch.

Blaine's eyes twitched for a moment, gleaming with frustrated tears he refused to shed, his hands balled into tight fists, and he quickly looked away.

_'I'm terrified of hurting you…' _the words hung on Blaine's tongue.

Blaine swallowed and cleared his throat.

"You don't know a _thing _about me Hummel…" he hissed, his voice slightly strained.

Kurt inched closer boldly.

"Then _tell _me."

Blaine swallowed, and took a steadying breath.

"I can't…"

Kurt let out a frustrated sigh and crossed his arms impatiently.

"You know what? Fine." Kurt snapped, his endurance wearing thin, "It's getting late, and I'm tired, so _fine, _Blaine. We'll just continue to ignore the enormous, uncomfortable but completely necessary conversation we need to have—just like we have for weeks. Because it's been working just _wonderfully _for us, right?"

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sigh as Kurt pushed past him and crossed the room to his side of the dorm, gathered a few of his toiletries and towel, and without another word, or so much as a second glace back to Blaine, walked out the door and disappeared out into the hall.

Blaine's eyes followed him out, and he stared at the empty space where Kurt had just stood just a few seconds before, his words still echoing loudly in his mind. His eyes lingered around for a bit, before he finally focused his attention to the small, white piece of paper at the doorstep, which Kurt had promptly stepped over on his way out to the bathroom.

Blaine swallowed and slowly walked over toward it. He'd noticed it being slipped under the door mid-way through his and Kurt's heated argument.

He bent down and picked it up, hesitantly unfolding the paper and read what was on it, the words written in Wes's familiar and urgent scrawl.

He stared down at the paper, which appeared to have been messily ripped out from a notebook.

He read it, and then he read it again.

His heart had stopped beating, he was almost sure of it.

A million emotions hit him at once, and he turned and sat against the door, reading and re-reading the message over and over again until the words were practically imprinted in his brain.

_Friday, 10pm, Main and 5th Ave. Plan's going into action, be prepared. We only have one shot at this. We can't fuck this one up. David and Mickey are getting the word out and I'll get the news to J._

_Revenge_

Blaine took a deep breath and pulled himself up and stumbled toward his bed. He ripped up the paper and tossed the remains into the wastebasket, and sat down on the springy Dalton Academy mattress, letting his head sink into his hands.

Two days. And then it would all be over.

Blaine shook his head as the news slowly began to sink in, and let himself fall back against the pillows.

Two _fucking _days.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I know…more angst right? My apologies. This is the last(ish) episode with all this angst...The next chapter is a<strong>_**liiitle **_**bit angsty, but it gets better after that :D**

**Leave a review about what you think (:**


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